THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 


PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


Francis  Bacon  and  his  Secret  Society. 


FRANCIS  BACON  ^D 
^SECRET  SOCIETY. 


An  Attempt  to  Collect  and  Unite  the  Lost  Links 
of  a  Long  and  Strong  Chain. 


By  Mrs.  Henry  Pott. 


"Commend  it,  or  amend  it." 


Chicago: 

Francis  J.  Schulte  &  Company. 

i8qi. 


'go.  litel  booke,  godde  send  thee  good  passage, 
And  specialie  lette  this  be  thy  prmer, 
Unto  them  alle  that  thee  wil  rede  or  heare: 
Wher  thou  art  wrong,  after  their  help  to  calle 
Thee  to  corecte  in  anie  parte  atte  alle." 

—  Chcuicer. 


Copyright,  -1891,  bv  Francis  J.  Schulte. 


TO  THE 

"Young  Jit%dlar«  txftfp  Ifom&m&m? 
"Sons  of  the  Morning," 

I  dedicate  this  Book, 
Confident  that  they  will  not  disappoint  the  prophetic  hope  of 

Francis  bacon 

that,  in  the  "  New  Birth  of  Time,"  his  "  Filii  Scientiarum" 

would,  accomplish  his  work,  and  "  hand 

down  the  Lamp  "  to  the  Next  Ages. 


20.^^1  * 


CONTENTS. 

Page. 

CHAPTER  I. 

g 
Introductory  

CHAPTER  II. 
Francis  Bacon:     Some  doubts  connected  with  his 

PERSONAL  HISTORY,    AND  ACTUAL   WORKS  AND  AIMS       25 

CHAPTER  III. 

Francis  Bacon  :    A  mystery  surrounds  his  private 

-       40 
LIFE  AND   CHARACTER  - 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Francis  Bacon  :     An  outline  of  his  life  and  aims     88 

CHAPTER  V. 

Playwright  and  poet-philosopher  -        -        -        -    117 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Deficiencies  of  learning  in  the  times  of  Eliza- 
beth and  James  I.   -        -        -        -        -        _        -    l->8 
CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Rosicrucians  :    Their  rules,  aims,  and  method 

107 
OF  WORKING  ------ 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  vital  spirits  of  nature 23° 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Masonry 2o6 

CHAPTER  X. 
Paper-marks  used  until  the  time  of  Sir  Nicholas 

Bacon -        -    298 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Paper-marks  in   and  after  the   time  of  Francis 

Bacon 33^ 

Plates     ^ 

List  of  paper-marks -  *03 


Feaicis  Bacon  aid  his  Seceet  Society. 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 


"  Read,  not  to  contradict  and  confute,  nor  to  believe  and  take  for  granted, 
nor  to  find  talk  and  discourse;  but  to  weigh  and  consider." 

THE  object  with  which  this  book  has  been  written  is  to  invite 
attention  and  help  in  clearing  some  obscurities,  and  answer- 
ing some  difficult  questions,  which  have  lately  presented  them- 
selves, in  the  course  of  a  close  investigation  into  the  works  and 
aims  of  Francis  Bacon  and  his  friends. 

Although,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  propositions  are  here  stated 
rather  than  argued,  it  must  not  be  thought  that  such  statements 
are  dogmatic,  or  that  the  conclusions  drawn  by  the  writer  are 
intended  to  be  forced  upon  others. 

So  far  as  is  possible,  facts  have  been  distinguished  from  con- 
jectures, suggestions,  or  inferences.  Nevertheless,  since,  to  most 
minds,  it  is  helpful  to  learn  what  general  conclusions  have  re- 
sulted from  certain  disconnected  items  of  evidence,  such  con- 
clusions as  have  been  reached  are  frankly  offered,  and  will 
readily  be  withdrawn,  if  proof  or  stronger  evidence  should  be 
forthcoming  on  the  contrary  side. 

Let  those  who  peruse  these  pages  regard  them  only  as  the 
faint  rays  of  a  lamp  of  inquiry,  which  may  guide  others,  stronger 
and  more  capable,  to  come  forward  and  work,  till  this  mine  of 
truth  shall  be  thoroughly  explored,  and  its  treasures  brought  to 
the  surface. 

(9J 


10  FRANCIS  BACON 

The  chain  of  argument  which  has  been  formed  is  of  the  fol- 
lowing kind: 

1.  There  is  a  mystery  about  the  life,  aims,  and  actual  work  of 
Francis  Bacon.  Ben  Jonson  (whose  accuracy  is  never  ques- 
tioned) acknowledges  this  in  his  verses  to  Bacon: 

"Thou  stand'st  as  though  a  mystery  thou  didst." 

And  J  onsen's  testimony  to  Bacon's  immense  and  poetic  genius, 
"  filling  up  all  numbers, "  etc.,  would  be  unintelligible  if  we  were 
to  maintain  that  all  is  known  which  could  be  known  about  Bacon 
and  his  works. 

The  more  we  study  these,  the  more  we  weigh  his  utterances, 
his  fragmentary  papers,  his  letters,  his  ambiguous  or  enigmatic 
notes,  his  wills,  and  the  dedications  and  prefaces  to  many  of  his 
acknowledged  or  suspected  works, —  the  more  closely  we  com- 
pare the  opinions  expressed  on  any  of  these  subjects,  so  much 
the  more  clearly  do  we  perceive  the  mystery,  the  apparent  con- 
tradictions which  exist  in  his  life  and  writings,  and  which  em- 
broil and  confuse  the  statements  of  his  innumerable  critics  and 
biographers.  The  apparent  "  contraries  of  good  and  evil  "  are, 
in  Bacon's  case,  so  many  and  so  strong,  that  there  is  hardly  an 
opinion  expressed  concerning  him  by  one  "great  authority" 
which  is  not  absolutely  contradicted  by  another  equally  great. 

2.  In  spite  of  Bacon's  distinct  and  repeated  statements  as 
to  the  deep  and  prevailing  darkness,  the  ignorant  grossness  of 
his  own  era;  — in  spite  of  his  catalogue  of  the  "  deficiencies"  of 
learning,  deficiencies  which,  commencing  with  lack  of  words, 
extend  through  some  forty  distinct  departments  of  learning; 
and  not  only  to  "  knowledges,"  but  to  everything  requisite  to 
form  a  fine  and  polished  style,  or  to  express  noble  thoughts :  — 
in  spite  of  all  this,  we  are  taught  to  believe  in  an  outburst  of 
literary  genius  and  of  "giant  minds,"  simultaneously  all  over 
the  world,  during  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  Yet  we  are  com- 
pelled to  confess  that  Bacon's  statements  have  never  been  chal- 
lenged or  refuted. 

Philology  shows  a  marvellous  correspondence  in  the  English 
literature  of  the  Elizabethan  and  Jacobean  period.     True,  some 


AND  MIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  11 

works  are  superior  to  others,  as  are  the  first  efforts  of  a  clever 
boy  to  the  compositions  of  his  mature  manhood — still,  a  very 
decided  resemblance  in  thought,  opinion,  knowledge,  and  dic- 
tion is  perceptible,  when  the  works  of  the  time  are  exhaustively 
compared. 

This  likeness  extends  even  to  foreign  works,  especially  when 
they  are  divested  of  their  Latin,  French,  German,  Italian,  or 
Spanish  mantles,  and  appear  as  "  translations"  in  very  Baconian 
diction.  In  many  cases  the  translations  appear  to  be  the  orig- 
inals. 

3.  It  is  manifestly  impossible  that  any  one  man,  however 
gigantic  his  power,  could  have  performed,  single-handed,  all 
that  we  believe  to  have  been  done  and  written  by  Francis  Bacon. 
But  many  entries  in  his  private  notes,  many  hints  in  his  let- 
ters and  acknowledged  works,  indicate  his  faith  in  the  efficacy 
of  united  efforts,  and  that,  besides  the  mystery  which  surrounded 
himself,  there  was  also  a  mystery  concerning  many  of  his  near- 
est relations  and  friends,  who  seemed  to  have  worked  for  the 
same  ends  as  he  did,  and  perfectly  to  have  understood  the  am- 
biguous language  in  which  he  expressed  himself.  Secret  socie- 
ties were  common  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  Bacon,  we  believe, 
was  the  centre  of  a  secret  league  for  the  advancement  of  learn- 
ing. This  revival  of  learning  was  the  "  New  Birth  of  Time" — ■ 
the  "  Renaissance." 

4.  Examination  into  the  history  of  the  secret  societies  of  the 
Middle  Ages  shows  the  Rosicrucian  fraternity  as  the  one  of  all 
others  which  would  have  been  best  fitted  to  promote  Bacon's 
lofty  aims;  its  very  constitution  and  mode  of  procedure  seeming 
to  be  the  result  of  his  own  scheme  or  "  method." 

5.  It  further  appears  that  no  sharply  defined  line  could  be 
drawn  between  the  method  and  objects  of  the  Rosicrucians  and 
those  of  the  Freemasons;  and  that,  in  fact,  although  the  pro- 
phetic imagination  of  Bacon  carried  him  into  the  highest  flights 
of  poetic  and  religious  aspiration,  and  into  the  sublimest  regions 
whither  the  Rosicruciau  brethren  strove  to  follow  him,  yet  he  was 
observant  and  practical  enough  to  see  that  there  were  things  in 
heaven  and  earth  unheard  of  in  ordinary  philosophy;  that  only 


12  FBANCIS  BACON 

a  few  in  his  own  times  would  be  able  to  comprehend  them,  and 
that,  even  in  the  ages  to  come,  such  things  must  be  "  caviare  to 
the  general, "  and  quite  beyond  the  reaches  of  their  souls. 

Consequently,  whoso  would  set  about  a  "  universal  reforma- 
tion of  the  whole  wide  world, "  such  as  the  Rosicrucians  dreamed 
of,  must  begin  in  a  very  humble  way,  and  on  the  low  level,  but 
the  very  broad  basis,  which  is  the  first  stage  or  platform  of  Free- 
masonry. 

6.  A  secret  society  implies  and  involves  secret  means  of  com- 
munication and  mutual  recognition — ciphers  or  secret  writing. 
Mr.  Donnelly's  great  discovery  of  cipher  in  the  Shakespeare  Folio 
of  1623  has  been  the  cause  of  much  investigation,  not  only  into 
the  typography  of  old  books,  but  also  into  the  art  of  cryptog- 
raphy, which,  in  and  after  Bacon's  time,  forms  an  important 
element  of  education  in  the  higher  schools  of  learning,  especially 
in  the  seminaries  and  Jesuits'  colleges  on  the  Continent.  "  Every 
prince  has  his  cipher. " 1  It  is  certain  that,  in  those  dark  and 
dangerous  days,  no  correspondence  of  importance  was  conducted 
without  the  use  of  some  secret  writing  or  cipher. 

So  numerous  are  the  works  on  cryptography  published  in  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  that  they  form  a  small  bib- 
liography of  themselves.  The  most  important  of  these  is  a  large 
octavo  volume,  published  with  a  pseudonym  (and  under  the  aus- 
pices of  the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  who  is  said  to  have  patronized 
Shakespeare  and  his  company)  at  Luneberg  in  1623  (1624  New 
Style) — in  the  same  year,  namely,  as  that  of  the  publication  of 
Bacon's  DeAugmentis,  in  which  his  own  cipher  is  described,  and 
of  the  Shakespeare  Folio,  in  which  Mr.  Donnelly  has  found  a 
cipher  narrative. 

7.  Inquiry  as  to  cipher  systems  and  their  wide-spread  use, 
and  immensely  varied  forms,  led  to  the  observation  that  the  use 
of  stenography,  or  short-hand,  though  used  as  a  method  of"  swift" 
writing,  is,  in  some  of  the  old  books,  found  to  be  intimately  con- 
nected with  cryptography.  The  results  of  this  research,  so  far 
as  it  goes,  tend  to  show  Bacon  again  as  the  introducer  and  great 

1  Promus. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  13 

encourager  of  this  short-hand  cipher.  It  even  appears  prohahle 
that  he  taught  it  to  his  young  assistants  and  secretaries,  and 
that  by  this  means  a  great  deal  of  his  wonderful  conversation, 
and  the  contents  of  many  small  treatises,  tracts,  sermons,  etc., 
were  taken  from  his  lips,  such  discourses  being  at  leisure  written 
out,  sometimes  revised  by  himself,  and  published  at  various 
places  and  under  various  names,  when  the  opportunity  arose  or 
when  the  time  seemed  ripe. 

8  With  regard  to  the  peculiar  typography  and  the  '  typo- 
graphical errors  »  which  were  tabulated  from  the  Shakespeare 
Folio  of  1623.  it  is  found  that  the  same  peculiarities,  the  same 
"errors,"  the  same  variations  in  type,  exist  throughout  the 
whole  circle  of  Baconian  (or  "  Rosicrucian  » )  publications  of  a 
certain  period.  Such  errors  and  peculiarities  predominate  in 
the  most  important  works,  especially  in  the  head-lines,  prefaces, 
indexes,  tables  of  contents;  and  "  accidents  »  in  printing,  when 
very  frequent  in  such  places,  or  in  the  pagination  of  the  book, 
are,  as  a  rule,  not  to  be  found  in  the  text  of  the  book  itself. 
Usually  one  edition  only  contains  these  "  errors  and  accidents;  » 
often  this  is  the  "  second  edition,  carefully  revised  and  aug- 
mented. "    Such  books  have  every  condition  requisite  for  cipher. 

9.  In  books  where  there  are  other  distinct  signs  of  Baconian 
origin,  the  wood-cuts  are  found  to  have  a  strange  connection 
and  affinity.  The  collation  of  a  large  number  of  tracings  and 
photographs  from  a  certain  class  of  books  reveals  a  complete 
chain-°work,  linking  one  book  to  another.  This  chain  invari- 
ably leads  up  to  Francis  Bacon  and  his  friends,  as  the  authors, 
"  producers,"  or  patrons  of  those  works. 

10.  The  same  system  of  mutual  connection  is  found  to  be 
kept  up  by  "water-marks,"  or  paper-marks,  in  these  same 
books.  These  paper-marks  are  extremely  numerous  and  vary 
very  much.  From  three  to  twenty-four  different  patterns  have 
been  found  in  one  volume. 

11.  The  tooling  of  the  binding  forms  another  chain  of  con- 
nection amongst  these  books. 

12.  Further  examination  discloses  other  secret  marks,  chiefly 
made,  we  think,  to  take  the  place  of  paper-marks,  and  inserted 


14  FRANCIS  BACON 

during  the  last  stage  of  perfecting  the  book.  They  tally  with 
each  other,  and  also  form  a  complete  chain  of  evidence  as  to 
the  workings  of  a  secret  society.  Say  that  they  are  printers' 
marks ;  yet  they  are  secret  marks  produced  with  cunning,  skill, 
and  forethought,  and  not  without  expense  as  well  as  trouble. 

13.  All  these  secret  signs  are  traceable,  variously  modified, 
and  ingeniously  introduced  to  suit  the  exigencies  of  modern 
printing  and  publishing,  from  the  time  of  Bacon  to  the  present 
day.  The  chain  of  connection  seems  to  be  complete.  Inquiries 
amongst  notable  printing-firms  and  printers,  and  researches  into 
books,  supposed  authorities  on  the  subject,  fail  to  produce  defi- 
nite information ;  but  the  facts  are  not  denied  nor  these  statements 
refuted.  The  impossibility  of  getting  a  straightforward  answer 
to  the  questions,  "Are  these  things  true?"  or  "Are  these 
things  untrue?  "  confirms  the  long-growing  conviction  that  the 
same  system  which  was  set  going  in  the  time  of  Bacon  is  at  the 
present  time  in  full  working  order ;  and  that  the  Freemasons 
form  the  Arts  and  Crafts,  the  later-established  and  lower  degrees 
of  the  society  which,  at  the  eighteenth  degree,  rises  into  the 
literary  and  religious  society  of  "Rose  Croix,"  or  the  "  Rosi- 
crucians,^  as  they  were  called  by  Andreas. 

14.  The  Rosicrucians  and  the  Freemasons  speak  in  their  books 
of  the  necessity  for  a  "  universal  language. "  This  language  is  to 
be  partly  by  signs,  but  also  largely  by  symbols  or  emblems.  It 
is  the  language  of  the  "  Renaissance. "  A  collation  of  passages 
shows  that  all  the  metaphors,  similes,  symbols,  and  emblems  of 
the  Rosicrucians  and  Masons,  and  of  all  the  works  which  we 
connect  with  them,  are  included  in  the  ivorks  of  Bacon.  The 
greater  contains  the  less,  and  the  language  is  his.  No  one  has 
since  improved  upon  it,  although  many  have  paraphrased  and 
diluted  his  words,  as  well  as  his  original  thoughts. 

15.  Bacon's  most  intimate  friends,  relations,  and  correspond- 
ents seem  to  have  been  all  either  Rosicrucians,  Freemasons,  or 
Uluminati,  as,  in  Italy  and  parts  of  Germany,  they  were  some- 
times called.  Their  names  continually  appear  in  connection 
with  the  works  produced  under  the  auspices  of  these  societies ; 
their  portraits  often  include  the  recognized  marks  of  distinction; 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  15 

their  very  graves  comply  with  the  rules  of  the  section  of  the 
society  to  which  they  belonged. 

16.  It  is  not  concluded,  from  the  evidence  which  has  been 
collected,  that  Bacon  originated  secret  societies,  or  that  there 
were  no  religious  fraternities  or  trade  guilds,  before  his  time, 
possessing  secrets  which  they  kept  for  mutual  help  and  pro- 
tection. 

On  the  contrary,  all  evidence  goes  to  show  that  such  institu- 
tions did  exist,  in  a  rude  and  inefficient  condition;  that  in  all 
probability  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon  and  others  had  conceived  a 
thought  of  attempting  to  consolidate  or  erect  some  such  society, 
for  the  purpose  of  reviving  learning,  and  of  promoting  unity  in 
religion.  But  it  remained  for  the  genius,  energy,  and  untiring 
devotion  of  Francis  Bacon  to  accomplish  these  things,  and  he 
seems  to  have  been  peculiarly  educated  for  the  purpose. 

Throwing  the  whole  weight  of  his  gigantic  intellect  and  the 
enthusiasm  of  "  that  great  heart  of  his " *  into  the  work  of 
methodising  and  perfecting  previous  weak  and  disjointed 
schemes,  he  built  up,  step  by  step,  stone  by  stone,  the  great 
fabric  of  learning,  the  "  Solomon's  House  "  which  his  descend- 
ants have  kept  in  repair,  and  to  which  the  "  future  ages  "  have 
made  additions  in  some  departments. 

It  was  Bacon  who  designed  the  exquisite  machinery  or 
"  engine  "  which  still  exists  for  the  reception,  arrangement, 
digestion,  and  wide-spread  distribution  of  knowledge.  It  was 
he  who,  finding  the  new  truth  in  vain  trying  to  struggle  up  in  a 
thankless  soil,  and  the  learning  of  the  ancients  smothered  and 
buried  in  the  dust  of  oblivion,  set  himself  the  task  of  raking  and 
digging  up  and  setting  it  forth  again,  polished  and  glorified 
with  all  the  lustre  of  his  radiant  mind.  The  organisation  or 
"  method  of  transmission  "  which  he  established  was  such  as  to 
ensure  that  never  again,  so  long  as  the  world  endured,  should 
the  lamp  of  tradition,  the  light  of  truth,  be  darkened  or  extin- 
guished"; but  that,  continually  trimmed  and  replenished  with 
the  oil  of  learning,  it  should  be  kept  alight,  a  little  candle  in  a 

i  Dr.  Rawlev's  Life  of  Bacon. 


16  FBANCIS  BACON 

dark  place,  or  a  beacon  set  on  a  hill,  burning  with  undimmed 
and  perpetual  brightness. 

Many  questions  arise  in  the  course  of  the  inquiries  with  which 
the  following  pages  are  concerned  —  doubts  and  knotty  points 
which  cannot  yet  be  definitely  settled,  but  which  must  be  con- 
sidered open  questions,  fair  subjects  for  discussion  and  further 
research.  Present  knowledge  is  not  equal  to  the  task  of  solving 
many  such  enigmas,  and  doubtless  these  will  for  a  while  con- 
tinue to  obtrude  themselves.  But  we  say  " present  knowledge," 
speaking  in  regard  to  the  world  and  readers  in  general.  There 
is  little  room  for  doubt  that  the  difficulties  and  obstacles  which 
we  have  met  with,  and  the  obscurity  which  enshrouds  so  much 
of  the  history  of  Bacon  and  his  friends,  are  neither  dark  nor 
difficult  to  a  certain  clique  of  learned  men,  still  representing  the 
brethren  of  the  Rosie  Cross.  As  to  the  lower  degrees  of  Mason- 
ry, the  Arts  and  Crafts  (or  the  mysteries  of  handiworks),  there 
are,  doubtless,  a  limited  number  of  personages,  presiding  over 
some  of  the  Freemason  lodges,  to  whom  all  these  details  are 
perfectly  well  understood. 

It  is  by  no  means  so  sure  that  even  the  high  initiates  in  any 
branch  of  the  society  are  informed  of  all  or  of  the  same  particu- 
lars. Probably  the  supreme  head,  or  Imperator,  and  two  or 
three  of  his  subordinates,  are  acquainted  with  the  whole  history 
of  the  society,  and  with  every  detail  of  its  method  and  present 
work.  But  with  regard  to  the  lower  orders  of  the  fraternity,  it 
does  not  appear,  from  the  evidence  we  have  collected,  that  they 
possess  any  true  knowledge  or  idea  of  their  origin.  Perhaps 
they  believe  the  fictitious  histories  which  we  shall  presently  have 
occasion  to  glance  at.  But,  at  all  events,  so  far  as  observation 
and  inquiry  have  enabled  us  to  ascertain,  every  craft  or  mechanical 
art,  connected  with  Freemasonry,  still  keeps  up  the  old  secret 
signs,  which,  though  now  perhaps  useless  anachronisms,  were, 
at  the  time  of  their  invention  and  institution  excellent  and 
ready  means  for  the  transmission  of  information  and  mutual 
intelligence,  not  only  from  man  to  man,  in  a  living  generation, 
but  from  man  to  posterity,  and  to  "  the  future  ages." 

Masons  mark  the  stones  they  chisel  with  marks  which  they  do 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  1? 

not  understand;  but  the  architect  who  decorates  his  building, 
externally  and  internally,  with  the  symbolic  ornamentation  of 
the  Renaissance,  is  a  Freemason  of  higher  rank,  and  we  do  not 
suppose,  from  the  specimens  which  we  see  of  recent  workman- 
ship, that  he,  like  the  mechanics  in  his  employ,  works  or  designs 
in  mere  "  base  imitation  "  of  his  predecessors.  The  very  nature, 
position,  or  circumstances  of  the  buildings  thus  decorated  pro- 
hibit the  belief  that  their  ornaments  are  casually  or  aimlessly 
applied. 

In  like  manner,  craftsmen,  employed  in  the  arts  and  trades  of 
paper-making,  printing,  engraving,  and  book-binding,  continue 
to  reproduce,  under  certain  circumstances,  not  only  the  old  secret 
marks,  but  the  old  hieroglyphic  or  symbolic  pictures,  modified  to 
suit  modern  requirements. 

Here,  again,  it  is  plain  that  the  simple  craftsman  is  the  mere 
tool,  obediently  performing,  he  knows  not  precisely  what,  or 
wherefore.  But  who  orders  and  guides  that  workman?  Who 
dictates  the  style  of  the  peculiar  designs  which  we  see  repeating 
the  same  story,  handing  down  the  same  lamp  of  tradition  which 
was  lighted  in  the  days  of  Queen  Elizabeth?  Whosoever  he 
may  be  who  dictates  or  designs,  he  is  not,  like  the  workman, 
ignorant  of  the  what  or  the  wherefore.  When  you  meet  with 
him  and  question  him,  he  will  not  tell  you  that  he  "  does  not 
hnoiv;"  he  will  reply  that  he  "  cannot  tell."  To  this  is  often 
added  some  suggestion  as  to  the  improbability  of  such  a  method 
being  now  in  existence :  "  Is  it  likely  that  this  system  should 
continue  ?  Of  what  use  could  it  be  at  the  present  time  ?  "  To 
the  latter  question  we  can  only  reply  that,  if  this  system  was 
established  in  connection  with  a  society  bound  by  repeated  vows 
of  secresy  and  constancy  to  continue  it  from  one  generation  to 
another,  we  cannot  see  at  what  point  they  could  ever  break  it 
oft",  except  by  discovery.  It  is  precisely  because  of  its  apparent 
inutility  in  the  present  day,  and  because  it  seems  that  such 
secresy  now  hinders  and  confounds  knowledge  (without  any 
compensating  advantages),  that  we  desire  to  aid  in  lifting  that 
curtain  which  Bacon  intended  should  be  one  day  raised ;  and 
which  we  have  good  reason  for  knowing  that  many  of  his 


18  FRANCIS  BACON 

followers  desire  to  see  withdrawn,  though  they  may  not  move 
one  finger  for  the  purpose. 

At  the  present  hour  it  does  indeed  appear  as  if  such  marks 
and  symbols  were  practically  useless — anachronisms,  in  free 
England  at  least.  Yet  neither  can  we  truly  say  that  they  are 
totally  valueless,  seeing  that,  little,  as  we  understand  their  pur- 
port, we  have  been  able  to  use  them  as  guides  through  a  strange 
and  unmapped  region. 

The  very -nature  of  the  case  makes  it  impossible  to  be  accu- 
rate in  describing  these  occult  signs.  Many  of  them,  doubtless, 
are  mere  blinds,  the  puzzling  dust  of  which  we  shall  read,  cast 
in  our  eyes  with  intent  to  deceive  and  mislead  us.  This  is  right, 
and  as  it  should  be ;  for  it  would  be  but  a  poor  secret  which 
could  easily  be  discovered;  and  from  Bacon,  and  in  anything 
which  he  devised,  we  should  expect  the  utmost  ingenuity  and 
subtlety  combined  with  the  greatest  power  and  the  wisest  fore- 
thought ;  —  a  scheme  planned  by  Prospero,  with  mischievous 
improvements  by  Puck,  and  carried  out  by  him  in  conjunction 
with  Ariel. 

We  are  armed  and  well  prepared  for  a  volley  of  perhaps  good- 
natured  abuse  and  derision  from  those,  on  the  one  hand,  who 
wish  to  discourage  others  from  following  up  the  lines  of  research 
which  are  here  indicated ;  on  the  other  hand,  from  that  very 
numerous  class  which  so  often  attracted  Bacon's  notice  —  those, 
namely,  who,  never  having  studied  a  subject,  are  the  more  posi- 
tive, either  that  it  is  a  delusion,  or  that  it  is  not  worthy  of  study. 
His  remarks  on  such  critics  are  so  satisfactory  and  exhaustive, 
that  this  prospect  in  no  way  troubles  us. 

There  is  yet  a  third  class  which  has  been  before  us  throughout 
the  process  of  collecting  the  particulars  included  in  the  following 
pages — students  not  too  easily  satisfied,  but  willing  to  take 
some  personal  trouble  to  reach  the  bottom  of  things,  and  to  get 
at  the  truth.  To  these  we  need  not  say,  as  to  the  former  class 
of  readers: 

"Before  you  judge,  be  pleased  to  understand." 

But  we  do  entreat  that,  accepting  nothing  at  second-hand, 
taking  nothing  for  granted,  they  will  contribute  some  personal 


AND  HIS  SECHET  SOCIETY.  19 

help  in  testing,  disproving,  or  confirming  the  statements  and 
suggestions  made  in  this  hook,  for,  the  sooner  error  is  confuted 
and  truth  established,  the  better  for  all. 

If  these  statements  be  incorrect,  those  especially  connected  tvith 
trades  and  crafts,  it  must  be  easy  for  those  at  the  head  of  great 
houses  connected  with  such  crafts  plainly  and  unreservedly  to 
confute  them.  Men  are  not  usually  found  to  be  backward  in 
contradicting  other  men's  assertions  when  they  consider  then- 
own  knowledge  superior.  And  to  the  simple  question,  "  Am  I 
wrong?  "  the  answer  "  Yes11  would  be  at  once  conclusive  and 
satisfactory,  if  delivered  by  a  competent  authority  and  an 
honorable  man. 

Such  an  answer  has  hitherto  been  withheld,  and  it  cannot  be 
thought  unreasonable  if  for  the  present  we  continue  in  the  faith 
that  the  statements  and  theories  here  set  forth  are  approximately 
correct.  When  those  who  have  it  in  their  power  absolutely  to 
confirm  or  refute  our  observations  will  do  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other;  when  published  books  are  found  invariably  to  stop  short 
at  the  point  where  full  information  is  required,  and  which  must 
be  in  the  possession  of  those  who,  having  written  up  to  that 
point,  know  so  well  where  to  stop  and  what  to  omit,  then  we  are 
assured  that  the  questions  remain  unanswered,  the  books  incom- 
plete, because  those  who  have  in  their  possession  the  informa- 
tion which  we  need  are  bound  by  vows  to  withhold  it.  In  Free- 
masons' language,  they  "  cannot  tell"— an  expression  which 
recurs  with  remarkable  frequency  in  correspondence  on  these 
subjects,  and  which  is  judiciously  or  graciously  varied  and  para- 
phrased: "  I  regret  to  be  unable  to  give  you  the  information  you 
seek  "—  "  I  am  sorry  that  I  can  tell  you  nothing  which  will  assist 
your  researches"— "  These  inquiries  are  most  interesting  — I 
wish  it  were  in  my  power  to  help  you,"  etc. 

In  vain  have  we  endeavored  to  extract  the  answer,  "  I  do  not 
know. "  Such  a  phrase  does  not  seem  to  exist  amongst  the  for- 
mula? of  Freemason  or  Rosicrucian  language. 

It  has  been  our  effort,  throughout  this  work,  to  keep  each 
subject  distinct  from  every  other;  at  the  same  time  showing 
how  all  are  inseparably  linked  and  bound  together;  how  every 


20  FBANCIS  BACON 

clue  pursued  in  this  argument  leads  to  the  same  point;  how  all 
lines  converge  to  the  centre. 

In  attempting  this,  all  effort  at  a  pleasing  composition  in  our 
book  has  had  to  be  renounced,  for  it  is  better  to  be  understood 
than 'applauded;  and  frequent  repetitious  are  needful  in  order 
to  spare  the  reader  from  puzzling  and  from  the  worry  of  per- 
petual foot-notes  or  references.  He  may  often  be  disappointed 
at  the  slight  and  sketchy  treatment  which  very  interesting  and 
important  matters  have  received.  But  since  the  present  object 
it  to  rouse  inquiry,  rather  than  to  clinch  any  argument,  or  to 
silence  objectors,  it  seems  the  wisest  plan  first  to  state  and  sug- 
gest, not  stopping  at  every  turn  in  order  to  prove  each  statement. 

This  appears  to  be  especially  desirable  since  it  is  notorious  that, 
in  such  matters  as  are  here  brought  forward,  judgment  will  and 
must  be  delivered  according  to  each  man's  light  and  knowledge. 
Those  who  know  most  will  understand  most,  inquire  most,  and 
be  the  most  interested  and  sympathetic.  But  we  cannot  "  go 
beyond  Aristotle  in  the  light  of  Aristotle. " 

And  surely  our  sympathies  should  rather  be  with  those  "  who 
seek  to  make  doubtful  things  certain"  than  with  those  others 
"  who  labor  to  make  certain  things  doubtful."  If  so,  let  us  be- 
ware of  forming  opinions  positive  and  stereotyped  upon  matters 
of  which  we  have  but  little  knowledge,  and  which  are  only  now 
beginningto  be  duly  weighed  and  sifted.  It  is  in  vain  to  assume 
a  knowledge  if  we  have  it  not;  and  judgments  delivered  under 
the  wig  of  Folly  are  sure  to  be  soon  reversed.  Bacon  underwent 
such  mock  trials  in  his  own  life-time,  and  he  has  told  us  how 
lightly  he  regarded  them.  "We  decline,"  he  says,  "to  be 
judged  by  a  tribunal  which  is  itself  upon  its  trial." 

To  the  end  that  this  investigation  may  be  the  more  easily  and 
swiftly  performed,  we  append  a  few  notes,  but  for  brevity's  sake 
(and  to  avoid  the  deterring  appearance  of  erudition  which,  to 
some  minds,  is  produced  by  an  array  of  quotations  and  refer- 
ences) these  have  been  curtailed  to  a  minimum.  They  will  not 
satisfy  the  real  lover  of  truth,  but  such  a  one  will  pursue  the 
subject  for  himself,  and  dig  to  the  very  roots  of  matters  which 
can  be  here  merely  noted  or  pointed  out. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  21 

Before  concluding  these  preliminary  remarks,  we  would  ask 
leave  to  say  a  few  words  respecting  an  idea  which  has  lately 
become  the  fashion.  This  idea  finds  expression  in  the  statement 
that  it  is  impossible  to  credit  the  Baconian  theories  because  they 
are  contrary  to  common  sense. 

Common  sense,  we  are  assured,  tells,  or  should  tell  us,  that  the 
notion  is  absurd  that  a  great  secret  society  exists  in  the  present 
day;  that  there  are  ciphers  introduced  into  many  Baconian 
books;  that  Bacon  wrote  all  that  philology  declares  him  to  have 
written ;  or  that  he  inaugurated  the  vast  amount  of  works  of  all 
kinds  which  evidence  seems  to  show  that  he  did  inaugurate.  On 
the  whole  no  one  with  any  common  sense  can  suppose  that  things 
are  true  which  the  speaker  (whose  common  sense  is  always 
excellent)  does  not  understand. 

Such  remarks,  from  those  who  have  never  studied  the  matter 
in  question,  invariably  suggest  the  inquiry, — What  is  this 
omniscient  common  sense,  which  is  supposed  capable  of  deciding 
without  effort,  and  by  some  mysterious  short  cut,  many  hard  and 
knotty  points  which  have  cost  the  investigator 'so  much  pains 
and  labor  ? 

Surely  common  sense  is  not,  as  many  seem  to  imagine,  a  kind 
of  intuitive  genius,  or  even  a  penetrative  insight.  Rather  it 
should  be  defined  as  the  power  of  reasoning  upon  experience. 

For  example,  suppose  a  man  never  to  have  seen  or  heard  of 
an  egg;  could  any  amount  of  sense,  common  or  uncommon,  lead 
him  to  expect  that  some  day  the  shell  would  be  cracked  from 
within,  and  that  a  living  ball  of  fluff  and  feathers  would  step 
forth?  Yet,  having  seen  one  such  egg,  and  the  chicken  which 
issued  from  it,  the  man  would,  on  finding  another  egg,  expect  a 
like  result.  If,  after  watching  a  hen  roost  for  many  days  or 
weeks,  seeing  the  same  phenomenon  frequently  repeated,  he 
still  remains  doubtful  as  to  what  might  come  out  of  an  egg,  think- / 
ing  it  equally  probable  that,  instead  of  a  chicken,  a  mouse,  a 
frog,  or  a  swarm  of  bees  might  appear,  we  should  consider  him 
a  fool,  entirely  without  common  sense,  incapable  of  reasoning 
by  analogy  or  experience.  And  so  with  all  cases  in  which  com- 
mon sense  is  exercised. 


22  FRANCIS  BACON 

Now,  it  is  plain  that  things  which  are  entirely  new  to  us, 
things  of  which  we  have  never  had  any  previous  experience,  are 
not  matters  upon  which  we  can  successfully  decide  by  common 
sense.  On  the  contrary,  we  must  use  some  sense  out  of  the  com- 
mon if  we  would  attain  to  the  knowledge  and  comprehension  of 
totally  new  sciences  or  branches  of  learning ;  and  to  learn  new 
things,  as  Shakespeare  tells  us,  is  the  end  of  study : 

JBiron.  "What  is  the  end  of  study  ?    Let  me  know. 

Lonij.  Why,  that  to  know  which  else  we  should  not  know. 
Biron.     Things  hid  and  barr'd,  you  know,  from  common  sense. 

King.  Aye,  that  is  study's  glorious  recompense. 

Those  who,  without  any  experience  in  the  questions  involved, 
pronounce  that  Bacon  could  not  have  written  Shakespeare,  or 
that  there  is  no  cipher  in  the  Plays,  or  that  Bacon  did  not  found 
Freemasonry  and  Kosicrucianism,  or  that,  although  the  former 
society  exists,  the  latter  does  not,  are  going  in  direct  opposition 
to  common  sense,  or  to  reason  based  upon  experience. 

For  experience  has  shown  that  the  philology,  science,  ethics, 
and  many  other  particulars  in  the  Plays  prove  them,  by  inter- 
nal evidence,  to  be  the  products  of  Bacon's  heart,  brain,  and  hand ; 
and  hundreds  of  other  "pieces  of  evidence,  connected  with  the 
circumstances  of  their  publication,  confirm  the  doctrines  which 
are  founded  upon  internal  evidence.  The  evidence  is  precisely 
of  the  same  kind  as  that  which  has  been  held  good  in  examining 
the  claims  of  many  authors  to  their  accredited  works;  and  the 
same  rules  of  criticism  which  are  employed  in  one  case  should 
hold  good  in  another,  where  the  same  similarities  are  seen  in 
infinitely  greater  numbers. 

From  the  Promus 1  we  gather  the  elements  of  a  new 
phraseology,  newly  coined  words,  turns  of  expression,  met- 
aphors, proberbial  sayings,  and  quotations  from  five  or  six 
languages;  from  the  Natural  History  and  the  History  of  Life  and 
Death,  a  mass  of  scientific  facts,  new  and  curious  in  the  day's 
when  they  were  recorded  and  published.  From  the  Novum 
Organum  and  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  a  mass  of  new 

1  Bacon's  private  MS.  notes,  in  the  Harleian  collection,  British  Museum. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  23 

ideas,  theories,  aphorisms,  and  philosophical  reflections.  From 
the  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients,  parables  "  new  "  and  "  deep,"  and 
mythological  interpretations  different  from  any  previously 
offered. 

Now,  when  all  these  things  are  seen  reflected  in  the  poetry  of 
Shakespeare  and  other  supposed  authors,  in  days  when  we  have 
the  authority  of  the  great  Verulam  himself  for  pronouncing 
knowledge  "  deficient  "  in  nearly  every  branch  of  polite  learn- 
ing, common  sense  tells  us  that  the  author  who  wrote  the  notes, 
and  the  author  who  used  them  in  his  prose  and  poetry,  was  one 
and  the  same. 

Again,  when  we  find  Shakespeare  writing  in  many  different 
styles;  when  we  find  his  styles  so  varied  that  his  warmest 
admirers  differ  and  wrangle  over  them,  and  assign  bits  of  his 
plays  first  to  one  author,  and  then  to  another,  calling  some  plays 
"spurious,"  others  "doubtful;"  when  we  find  some  of  his 
poetry  very  prosy,  and  some  of  his  prose  to  be  finest  poetry;  and 
then,  when  the  same  observations  recur  with  Bacon's  acknowl- 
edged works,  Ben  Jonson  praising  both  authors  in  the  same 
words,  but  saying  that  Bacon  alone  filled  all  numbers;  when  we 
find  the  analogies  between  the  two  groups  of  works  made 
patent  by  thousands  of  extracts  and  passages,  on  all  conceiv- 
able subjects,  and  notably  by  a  harmony  of  about  forty  thousand 
metaphors  and  similes,  common  sense  is  forced  to  declare  that 
here  again  the  author  is  one  and  the  same. 

When  experience  shows  that  Freemasonry  exists,  exercising 
the  same  functions,  rules,  and  system  as  it  did  nearly  three 
hundred  years  ago,  reason  tells  us  that  what  is  a  fact  concern- 
ing the  lower  grades  of  a  society  is  likely  to  be  equally  a  fact 
concerning  the  upper  grades  of  the  same  society;  and  when  we 
see  the  Freemasons  exhibiting  and  proclaiming  themselves,  in 
their  meetings,  dresses,  and  ceremonials,  much  as  they  did  at 
their  first  institution,  we  find  it  contrary  to  common  sense  to 
maintain  that  the  retiring  and  silent  Rosicrucians,  whose  rules 
from  the  first  enforced  concealment  and  silence,  cannot  novo  be  in 
existence,  because  then  are  not  seen  or  generally  recognised. 

With  regard  to  the  use  of  ciphers,  it  is  true  that  modern  society 


24  FBANCIS  BACON 

has  little  or  no  experience  of  their  use;  hut  since  the  art  of  cryp- 
tography constituted  in  Bacon's  time  an  important  part  of  a 
learned  education,  it  is  contrary  to  common  sense  to  say  that  the 
introduction  of  ciphers  into  printed  hooks  is  either  impossible  or 
improbable;  or  that,  though  the  societies  which  used  them  may 
still  exist,  working  on  their  original  lines,  yet  it  is  absurd  to  sup- 
pose that  they  know  of  the  ciphers  or  use  them  still.  If  the 
society  exists,  its  ciphers  exist  also. 

There  are  some  drawbacks  to  the  delight  of  pursuing  these 
many  and  various  questions.  One  is  the  conviction  which 
presses  upon  us,  that  all  the  information  which  we  seek  is  per- 
fectly well  known  to  certain  living  persons;  that  the  particulars 
which,  with  painful  slowness,  we  rake  for  and  sift  from  the 
dust  of  time,  from  books  whose  titles  are  generally  forgotten, 
from  manuscripts  whose  very  existence  is  generally  unknown, 
are  all  formally  recorded,  or  have  been  verbally  transmitted  to 
those  certain  few;  so  that,  in  the  endeavors  now  made  toward 
reaching  absolute  truth  in  these  particulars,  we  are  doing  what 
Bacon  would  call  actum  agere — doing  the  deed  done — a  process 
always  unsatisfactory,  and  one  from  which  we  seek  to  deliver 
others  who  may  follow  in  our  footsteps. 

It  is,  moreover,  disheartening  to  know  that  this  book  must  be, 
of  its  very  nature,  imperfect.  It  must  go  forth  unfledged, 
"  flying,"  as  Bacon  says,  "  out  of  its  feathers."  Hardly  will  it 
have  flown,  when  the  "dogs,"  Bacon's  cynics,  and  his  critics, 
the  "  birds  of  prey, "  will  be  after  it,  and  hunt  it  down,  and  peck 
it  to  pieces.  Yet  if,  perchance,  it  may  be  fortunate  enough  to 
attract  the  attention  of  some  dozen  students  in  our  great  libra- 
ries, workers  in  any  department  of  knowledge,  this  little  work 
will  have  fulfilled  its  mission.  Perhaps  some  fresh  streams  of 
information  may  flow  in  to  assist  the  subsequent  portions  of  this 
book.  At  all  events,  even  common  criticism,  hostile  though  it 
may  be,  will,  we  trust,  lend  further  aid  to  the  clearing-up  of 
errors  or  misapprehensions,  and  to  the  "  finding  out  Truth, 
though  she  be  hid  indeed  within  the  center. " 


CHAPTEE  II. 

FRANCIS    BACON:    SOME    DOUBTS    CONNECTED  WITH    HIS  PER- 
SONAL HISTORY,   AND  ACTUAL  WORKS   AND   AIMS. 

"I  have  been  induced  to  think  that  if  there  were  a  beam  of  knowledge  de- 
rived from  God  upon  any  man  in  these  modern  times,  it  was  upon  him." 

— Dr.  Eawley. 

IT  is  certain  that,  although  much  is  known  about  Francis 
Bacon  in  some  parts  or  phases  of  his  chequered  life,  yet  there 
is  a  great  deal  more  which  is  obscure,  or  very  inadequately 
treated  of  by  his  biographers. 

So  little  has,  until  recently,  been  generally  thought  about  him, 
that  the  doubts  and  discrepancies,  and  even  the  blanks  which 
are  to  be  found  in  all  the  narratives  which  concern  him^  have 
usually  passed  unnoticed,  or  have  been  accepted  as  matters  of 
course.  Yet  there  are  points  which  it  would  be  well  to  inquire 
into. 

For  instance,  what  was  he  doing  or  where  was  he  travelling 
during  certain  unchronicled  years?  Why  do  we  hear  so  little  in 
modern  books  of  that  beloved  brother  Anthony,  who  was  his 
"  comfort,"  and  his  "  second  self  "  ?  And  where  was  Anthony 
when  he  died?  Where  was  he  buried?  And  why  are  no  par- 
ticulars of  his  eventful  life,  his  last  illness,  death,  or  burial, 
recorded  in  ordinary  books  ? 

Where  is  the  correspondence  which  passed  for  years  between 
the  brothers?  Sixteen  folio  volumes  at  Lambeth  inclose  a  large 
portion  of  Anthony's  correspondence.  Letters  important,  and 
apparently  unimportant,  have  been  carefully  preserved,  but 
amongst  them  hardly  one  from  Francis.  And  where  is  any  cor- 
respondence of  the  same  kind  either  from  or  to  him  —  letters, 
that  is,  full  of  cipher,  and  containing  secret  communications, 
information  concerning  persons  and  politics,  such  as  Anthony 

(25) 


26  FRANCIS  BACON 

was  engaged  in  collecting  for  his  especial  use  ?  The  letters  to 
Anthony  are  preserved.  Where  are  those  from  him  1  Then, 
again,  of  his  chief  friends  and  confidants — why  do  his  published 
letters  and  biographies  pass  over  lightly,  or  entirely  ignore,  his 
intimate  acquaintance  with  many  remarkable  men;  as,  for 
instance,  with  Michel  de  Montaigne,  John  Florio,  Father  Ful- 
gentius,  and  Pierre  DuMoulin,  with  John  Beaumont  and  Edward 
Alleyn,  with  Giordano  Bruno,  Theodore  Beza  and  Ben  Jonson? 
Or,  turning  to  more  general  inquiries,  how  came  there  to  bo 
such  an  outburst  of  learning  and  wit  in  the  immediate  society  of 
the  very  man  who  repeatedly  pronounced  learning  and  true  liter- 
ary power  to  be  deficient  ?  How  was  it  that,  although  from  the 
first  moment  when  he  began  to  publish  all  authors  adopted  his 
words,  his  expressions  and  his  ideas;  though  they  continually 
echoed,  paraphrased,  or  curtailed  his  utterances,  and  set  up  his 
judgment  as  a  standard,  working,  thenceforward,  on  his  lines, 
his  NAME  was  seldom  mentioned,  and  that,  even  to  this  day, 
the  tremendous  debts  cwed  to  him  by  the  whole  civilized  world  are 
practically  ignored?  Seeing  the  prodigious  difficulty  which  now 
meets  any  attempt  to  eradicate  an  old  error,  or  to  gain  acceptance 
for  anew  idea,  why ,  we  would  ask,  did  Bacon  contrive  so  to  impress, 
not  only  his  new  diction,  but  his  new  ideas,  upon  the  literature 
and  upon  the  very  life  of  whole  nations  ? 

In  the  process  of  collecting  material  for  a  harmony  between 
the  scientific  works  of  Bacon,  Shakespeare,  and  others,  it  became 
apparent  that  many  of  Bacon's  works,  especially  the  fragmentary 
works,  Valerius  Terminus,  Thema  Cceli,  the  Histories  of  Dense 
and  Bare,  or  Salt,  Sulphur  and  Mercury,  etc.,  still  more  notably 
the  Sylva  Sylvarum,  the  New  Atlantis,  and  the  History  of 
Life  and  Death  (published  together,  after  Bacon's  death,  by  his 
secretary,  Dr.  Rawley),  as  well  as  the  Praise  of  the  Queen  (for 
the  publication  of  which  Bacon  left  special  instructions),  were 
not  that  alone  which  they  pretended  to  be.  They  profess  to  be 
works  on  science  or  history;  they  prove,  when  more  closely 
examined  and  collated  with  the  rest  of  Bacon's  acknowledged 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  27 

works,  to  be  parables,  or  figurative  pieces,  conveying  a  double 
meaning  to  those  who  had  knowledge  enough  to  receive  it. 

These  works  (like  the  Shakespeare  sonnets)  are  all  more  or  less 
obscure  and  incomprehensible  in  aim  or  form.  They  are, 
apparently,  full  of  allusions  to  other  parts  of  his  works,  where 
similar  expressions  are  applied  to  quite  different  purposes. 
Sometimes  they  are  to  outward  appearance  fragmentary,  imper- 
fect, manifestly  inaccurate  or  incomplete,  in  matters  with  which 
Bacon  was  acquainted,  yet  permitted,  nay,  ordered,  by  him  to  be 
so  published. 

It  is  well  known  that  Bacon's  great  desire  was  to  be  clear, 
perspicuous,  and  easily  understood.  Obscurity  in  his  writing 
was,  therefore,  not  caused  by  disregard  of  the  limited  compre- 
hensions of  his  readers,  or  by  inadvertence  in  the  choice  of  words, 
for  he  was  an  absolute  master  of  language  and  could  write  or 
speak  in  any  style  or  to  any  pitch,  high  or  low,  which  suited  his 
subject.  The  obscurity,  then,  was,  we  are  sure,  intentional. 
He  admits  as  much  in  many  places,  where  he  confesses  that  be 
finds  it  desirable  "  to  keep  some  state  "  concerning  himself  and 
his  works,  and  where  he,  over  and  over  again,  commends  the 
use  of  reserve,  secresy,  ambiguous  or  parabolic  language,  of 
allegory,  metaphor,  simile,  and  allusion,  which  are  (as  he  says  in 
the  preface  to  the  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients)  a  veil  to  hide  from  the 
eyes  of  the  vulgar  thiDgs  too  deep  and  difficult  for  their  compre- 
hension. It  is  desirable  that  this  system  or  method,  of  Bacon, 
should  be  clearly  recognised  and  understood;  it  forms  a  very 
important  element  in  the  matters  which  are  presently  to  be  dis- 
cussed, and  since  there  are  many  persons  ready  to  enter  into 
arguments  connected  with  Bacon,  but  who  have  never  read  his 
works,  no  apology  is  needed  for  reproducing  passages  from 
various  places  where  he  speaks  for  himself  and  in  no  uncertain 
tones: 

"  Parabolic  poesy  is  of  a  higher  character  than  others  (narra- 
tive or  dramatic),  and  appears  to  be  something  sacred  and  ven- 
erable; especially  as  religion  itself  commonly  uses  its  aid  as  a 
means  of  communication  between  divinity  and  humanity.  But 
this,  too,  is  corrupted  by  the  levity  and  idleness  of  wit  in  deal- 
ing with  allegory.    It  is  of  double  use  and  serves  for  contrary 


28  FRANCIS  BACON 

purposes ;  for  it  serves  for  an  infoldment,  and  it  likewise  serves 
for  illustration.  In  the  latter  case,  the  object  is  a  certain  method 
of  teaching;  in  the  former,  an  artifice  for  concealment.  Now, 
this  method  of  teaching,  used  for  illustration,  was  very  much  in 
use  in  thef  ancient  times.  For,  the  inventions  and  conclusions 
of  human  reason  (even  those  that  are  now  common  and  trite) 
being  then  new  and  strange,  the  minds  of  men  were  hardly 
subtle  enough  to  conceive  them,  unless  they  were  brought  nearer 
to  the  sense  by  this  kind  of  resemblances  and  examples.  And 
hence  the  ancient  times  are  full  of  all  kinds  of  fables,  parables, 
enigmas,  and  similitudes;  as  may  appear  by  the  numbers  of 
Pythagoras,  the  enigmas  of  the  Sphinx,  the  fables  of  iEsop,  and 
the  like.  The  apophthegms,  too,  of  the  ancient  sages,  com- 
monly explained  the  matter  by  similitudes.  Thus  Menenius 
Agrippa,  among  the  Romans  (a  nation  at  that  time  by  no  means 
learned),  quelled  a  sedition  by  a  fable.  In  a  word,  as  hiero- 
glyphics were  before  letters,  so  parables  were  before  arguments. 
And  even  now,  and  at  all  times,  the  force  of  parables  is  and  has 
been  excellent;  because  arguments  cannot  be  made  so  perspicu- 
ous, nor  true  examples  so  apt. 

"  But  there  remains  yet  another  use  of  poesy  parabolical, 
opposite  to  the  former;  wherein  it  serves  (as  I  said)  for  an 
infoldment ;  for  such  things,  I  mean,  the  dignity  whereof  requires 
that  they  should  be  seen,  as  it  were,  through  a  veil;  that  is, 
whenthe  secrets  and  mysteries  of  religion,  policy,  and  philosophy 
are  involved  in  fables  or  parables.  Note,  whether  any  mystic 
meaning  be  concealed  beneath  the  fables  of  the  ancient  poets  is  a 
matter  of  some  doubt.  For  my  own  part  I  must  confess  that  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  that  a  mystery  is  involved  in  no  small  number  of 
them.  Nor  docs  the  fact  that  they  are  commonly  left  to  boys  and 
grammarians,  and  held  in  slight  repute,  make  me  despise  them; 
but  rather,  since  it  is  evident  that  the  writings  in  which  these 
fables  are  related  are,  next  to  sacred  story,  the  most  ancient  of 
human  writings,  and  the  fables  themselves  still  more  ancient,  I 
take  them  to  be  a  kind  of  breath,  from  the  traditions  of  more 
ancient  nations,  which  fell  into  the  pipes  of  the  Greeks.  But 
since  that  which  has  hitherto  been  done  in  the  interpretation  of 
these  parables,  being  the  work  of  unskillful  men,  not  learned 
beyond  commonplaces,  does  not  by  any  means  satisfy  me,  I  think 
to  set  down  Philosophy  according  to  the  ancient  parables  among 
the  desiderata,  of  which  work  I  will  subjoin  one  or  two  exam- 
ples; not  so  much,  perhaps,  for  the  value  of  the  thing,  as  for  the 
sake  of  carrying  out  my  principle,  which  is  this :  whenever  I  set 
down  a  work  among  the  desiderata  (if  there  be  anything  obscure 
about  it)  I  intend  alivays  to  set  forth  either  instructions  for  the 
execution  of  it,  or  an  example  of  the  thing;  else  it  might  be 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  29 

thought  that  it  was  merely  some  light  notion  that  had  glanced 
through  my  mind;  or  that  I  am  like  an  augur  measuring  coun- 
tries in  thought,  without  knowing  the  way  to  enter  them." 

He  then  gives  three  examples  (to  which  we  will  hy  and  hy 
return),  "  one  taken  from  things  natural,  one  from  things 
political,  and  one  from  things  moral. " 

From  this  notable  passage  we  learn,  (1)  that  Bacon  regarded 
parabolic  poetry  as  a  means  of  communication  between  Divinity 
and  Humanity,  consequently  as  of  greater  importance  than  any 
other;  (2)  of  double  use,  for  infoldment  and  illustration;  (3)  that 
the  use  of  parables  was  sanctioned  by  religion  and  Divinity  itself; 
(4)  that  it  was  largely  employed  in  the  philosophy  of  the  ancients, 
and  that,  although  this  was  a  matter  of  doubt  with  others,  there 
was  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  Bacon  that  the  philosophical  inter- 
pretation of  the  ancient  myths  was  deficient,  left  to  boys  and 
incapable  persons;  and  that  (5)  according  to  his  custom,  he  was 
prepared  to  set  forth  instructions  for  the  purpose  of  meeting  this 
deficiency. 

The  examples  given  in  the  Advancement  of  Learning  are  but 
solitary  instances.  In  the  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients  (now  too  lit- 
tle read),  thirty-one  essays  disclose  to  us  the  matured  opinions 
of  Bacon  on  this  subject.  The  preface  to  that  delightful  book 
repeats  at  greater  length,  and  in  more  poetic  language,  the  sen- 
timents expressed  in  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  that  "  para- 
bles serve  as  well  to  instruct  and  illustrate  as  to  wrap  up  and 
envelope,  and  every  man  of  learning  must  readily  allow  that  this 
method  is  grave,  sober,  or  exceedingly  useful,  and  sometimes 
necessary  in  the  sciences,  as  it  opens  an  easy  and  familiar  pas- 
sage to  the  human  understanding  in  all  discoveries  that  are 
abstruse  and  out  ot  the  road  of  vulgar  opinions.  Hence,  in  the 
first  ages,  when  such  inventions  and  conclusions  of  the  human 
reason  as  are  now  trite  and  common  were  new  and  little 
known,  all  things1  abounded  with  fables,  parables,  similes,  com- 
parisons, and  illustrations,  which  are  not  intended  to  conceal, 
but  to  inform  and  teach,  whilst  the  minds  of  men  continued  rude 


1  "For  there's  figures  in  all  things."    (Henry  V.  iv.  7.) 


30  FRANCIS  BACON 

and  unpractised  in  matters  of  subtlety  and  speculation,  or  were 
impatient,  and  in  a  manner  incapable,  of  receiving  such  things 
as  did  not  directly  fall  under  and  strike  the  senses.  And 
even  to  this  day,  if  any  man  would  let  new  light  in  upon  the 
human  understanding,  and  conquer  prejudice,  without  raising 
contests,  animosities,  opposition,  or  disturbance,  he  must  still  go 
on  in  the  same  path,  and  have  recourse  to  the  like  method  of  alle- 
gory, metaphor,  and  allusion. "  Bacon  had  said  in  the  Advance- 
ment of  Learning — -and  he  repeated  in  the  De  Augmentis  in 
1623 — that  such  parabolic  teaching  and  method  of  interpreta- 
tion was  deficient,  and  that  he  was  about  to  set  forth  examples 
for  the  instruction  of  others.  His  assertions  and  conclusions 
were  never  challenged  or  contradicted.  On  the  contrary,  his 
contemporaries  tacitly  acquiesced  in  his  statements,  and  pos- 
terity has  endorsed  the  estimate  given  by  the  great  men  of  his 
time  as  to  his  vast  and  profound  learning  and  his  excellent  judg- 
ment. When,  therefore,  we  meet  with  other  works  of  his  time, 
not  published  under  his  name,  but  abounding  in  "  the  like 
method  "  and  use  of  allegory,  metaphor,  and  allusion,  we  may 
with  reason  question  the  origin  of  such  works;  we  may  even 
consider  it  to  be  a  matter  of  considerable  doubt.  In  any  case 
we  shall  be  prepared  to  find  Bacon's  own  works  abounding  with 
metaphors  and  similes,  and  his  new  and  subtle  ideas  and  theo- 
ries "  wrapped  or  delivered  "  in  a  veil  of  parable,  and  allegory, 
and  symbolic  language. 

Having  regard  to  such  considerations  as  the  foregoing,  it  was 
thought  necessary  to  test  the  matter  by  forming  a  kind  of  dic- 
tionary or  harmony  of  the  metaphors,  similes,  and  figurative  ex- 
pressions in  the  acknowledged  works  of  Bacon  and  in  Shake- 
speare. About  forty  thousand  of  such  figurative  passages  have 
been  brought  together  from  the  two  groups  of  works,  and  it  is 
thus  made  clear  that  the  metaphors  and  figures  used  are  to  a 
marvellous  extent  the  same.  They  exhibit  everywhere  the  same 
knowledge,  the  same  opinions  and  tastes,  and  often  the  same 
choice  of  words;  they  mutually  elucidate  and  interchange  ideas; 
they  are  found  to  be  connected  by  innumerable  small  links  and 
chains  with  certain  fixed  ideas  which  reappear  throughout  the 


AND  HIS  SNC&ET  SOCIETY.  31 

whole  of  Bacon's  works,  and  which  are  indissolubly  bound  up 
with  the  system  or  method  by  which  he  was  endeavoring  to 
educate  and  reform  the  world.    It  will  be  observed  that  Bacon 
bases  his  teaching,  in  the  first  instance,  upon  the  figures  used  in 
the  Bible  and  by  the  ancient  philosophers,  but  that  he  beautifies 
and  expands  every  symbol,  transmuting  stones  into  gold,  and 
making  dry  bones  live.    It  is  impossible  to  follow  up  the  many 
questions  which  grow  out  of  this  subject  without  perceiving  that 
Bacon  must  in  his  early  youth  have  deeply  studied  and  mastered 
the  philosophy,  not  only  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  (with  whom 
he  often  compares  himself),  but  also  of  the  learned  men  of  Asia 
and  Africa.    The  works  of  Claudius  Galen,  Porphyry,  Diogenes 
of  Babylon.  Constantinus  Porphyrogenitus,  and  Confucius  seem 
to  have  been  as  well  known  to  him  as  those  of  the  Africans, 
Origen,  Diophantus,  Athenseus,  Athanasius,  Euclid,  St.  Augus- 
tine, or  Mohammed  Rhazi.    Many  of  the  allegories  and  fanciful 
symbols  or  emblems  which  Bacon  introduces  into  his  writings, 
and  which  are  also  abundant  in  Shakespeare,  seem  derivable 
from  such  studies. 

We  shall  presently  have  to  consider  the  use  which  Bacon 
intended  to  make  of  this  symbolic  language  and  the  manner 
in  which  it  may  be  interpreted.  Let  it  be  said,  in  passing,  that, 
although  Bacon  seems  to  have  made  an  unwearied  and  exhaust- 
ive research  into  all  the  ancient  philosophies  attainable  in  his 
time,  and  although,  in  his  early  youth,  he  seems  to  have  been 
strongly  attracted  by  the  study,  extracting  from  it  many  beau- 
tiful and  poetic  ideas,  yet  there  is  in  his  works  no  trace  of  his 
mind  having  undergone  the  upsetting  which  is  perceptible  in  so 
many  modern  students  who  have  "  puzzled  their  intellects"  over 
the  origin  of  religion.  There  is  no  indication  of  his  having  ever 
tried  to  persuade  himself,  or  others,  that  Paganism  or  Buddhism 
itself  was  the  pure  and  primitive  form  of  religion  from  which 
Christianity  derives  all  that  is  most  good  and  elevating  in  its 
teaching  or  doctrine. 

He  observes  the  errors  and  corruptions  of  these  old  cults, 
although  at  the  same  time  appreciating  all  that  is  worthy  of 
praise;  and  in  his  effort  to  mingle  heaven  and  earth,  metaphys- 


32  FRANCIS  BACON 

ics  and  science,  the  abstract  and  the  concrete,  he  never  indulges 
in  the  ecstasies  of  mysticism  or  occultism,  which  modern  stu- 
dents of  these  subjects,  following  the  questionable  guidance  of 
the  mediaeval  orientalists  and  mystics,  have  allowed  themselves. 
The  symbols  which  these  ancient  religions  are  said  to  have 
adopted  were  in  many  cases  connected  with  ideas  and  cere- 
monies gross  and  repulsive,  the  natural  product  of  coarse  and 
ignorant  minds.  And  these  seem  to  have  grown  even  more 
coarse  and  injurious  when  the  world — no  longer  in  its  infancy, 
but  assuming  the  airs  and  speaking  with  the  authority  of  man- 
hood— proceeded,  several  hundred  years  after  the  death  of 
Christ,  to  erect  an  elaborate  fabric  of  philosophy  upon  the 
original  rough-hewn  foundations;  endeavoring  to  blend  the 
pure  morality  of  Christianity,  and  the  most  sublime  attributes 
of  Christ  Himself,  with  the  worship  of  Buddha,  and  then  to 
make  it  appear  that  the  "  Light  of  the  World"  is  but  a  reflected 
light  from  the  "  Light  of  Asia. " 

There  is  no  trace  of  such  a  result  from  Bacon's  researches  into 
the  philosophies  of  antiquity,  and  it  will  be  seen  that,  even  in 
adopting  the  emblems  and  symbols  of  the  ancient  religions,  he 
modified  them,  refined  them,  and  separated  from  the  dross  of 
base  matter  all  that  was  pure,  good,  and  bright,  for  the  use  of 
man. 

Doubts  as  to  authorship,  though  intensified  by  examination  of 
the  metaphors,  etc.,  were  not  satisfied,  and  quickly  gave  rise  to 
others. 

An  attempt  was  next  made  to  trace  the  notes  of  Bacon's 
Promus,  as  well  as  his  figures  and  peculiar  terms  of  speech, 
his  opinions,  scientific  statements,  and  philosophic  aphorisms, 
into  other  works  not  Shakespeare.  So  few  Promus  notes  of 
this  kind  were  found,  when  compared  with  the  multitude  of 
them  which  are  easily  perceptible  in  Shakespeare,  that,  at  the 
time  of  the  publication  of  the  Promus,  we  were  disposed  to  reject 
as  non-Baconian  most  of  the  Elizabethan  dramatists  excepting 
"  Marlowe,17  in  whose  works  at  least  five  hundred  points  of  sim- 
ilarity to  Baconian  notes  and  diction  are  to  be  found.    A  closer 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  33 

(or  perhaps  a  more  enlightened)  study  obliges  us  to  modify 
these  views.  For  it  is  observed  that,  although,  in  many  of 
these  works,  the  Promus  notes  are  scarce,  and  the  entries  in 
certain  folios  of  that  collection  altogether  absent,  yet,  wherever 
any  Promus  notes  are  discovered  in  the  works  of  Bacon's  time, 
or  for  some  years  later,  there  also  ivill  almost  surely  be  found  a 
number  of  metaphors  of  the  same  kind  as  those  mentioned  above. 
The  majority  of  these  will  be  found  traceable  to  the  ancient 
philosophers  and  to  the  Bible,  and  are  always  used  in  the  same 
characteristic  and  graphic  manner  in  Bacon's  works;  the  form 
of  the  metaphor  being  modified  to  suit  the  style  and  subject  of 
the  piece  in  which  it  is  set. 

This  perceptible  connection  between  the  metaphors,  the  Promus 
notes,  and  the  use  of  texts  from  the  Bible,  throughout  the  works 
of  Bacon,  and  the  school  which  he  seems  to  have  created, 
strengthened  still  further  the  growing  conviction  that  he  was  the 
centre  of  a  powerful  and  learned  secret  society,  and  that  the 
whole  of  the  literature  contemporaneous  with  him  was  bound 
together  by  chains  and  links,  cords  and  threads,  forged,  woven, 
and  spun  by  himself. 

With  regard  to  the  Promus,  edited  with  passages  from 
Shakespeare,  and  published  in  1883,  we  would  say  that  further 
study  has  thrown  new  light  upon  many  of  the  entries.  Some, 
which  appeared  very  obscure,  seem  to  be  intimately  connected 
with  Bacon's  plans  for  the  establishment  of  his  secret  society. 
There  are  also  many  errors  in  the  arrangement  of  the  notes, 
some  being  divided  which  should  have  been  treated  as  a  whole, 
and  the  sheets  themselves,  as  arranged  in  the  Harleian  collection, 
are  not,  in  the  editor's  opinion,  correctly  placed.  We  make  no 
apologies  for  deficiencies  in  carrying  out  a  work  which  was,  in 
the  then  stage  of  knowledge,  a  much  more  difficult  business  than 
it  now  appears.  Ill  health  must  have  its  share  of  blame,  the 
editor  being  rendered  incapable  of  revising  proofs  with  the 
manuscript  at  the  British  Museum.  A  future  edition  shall  be 
much  more  perfect. 

Still  prosecuting  the  work  of  comparative  philology  and 
science,  the  present  writer  was  irresistibly  drawn  to  the  con- 

3 


34  FRANCIS  BACON 

elusion  that  the  works  actually  written  by  Bacon  himself  are  far 
in  excess  of  those  ascribed  to  him  by  the  majority  even  of  his 
most  enthusiastic  admirers.  It  became  evident  that  it  would 
have  been  beyond  human  power  for  any  single  individual  to 
have  observed,  experimented,  travelled,  read,  written,  to  the 
extent  which  we  find  Bacon  to  have  done,  unless  he  had  been 
aided  in  the  mechanical  parts  of  his  work  by  an  army  of 
amanuenses,  transcribers,  collators,  translators,  and  publishers, 
and  even  by  powerful  friends  in  high  places,  and  by  the  control 
of  the  leading  printing-presses. 

An  examination  into  Bacon's  own  repeated  statements  as  to 
the  ignorance,  incapacity,  and  miseries  of  the  age  in  which  he 
lived,  shows  him  pointing  oat,  amongst  other  things,  the 
"  poverty  "  of  language,  the  lack  of  words,  the  necessity  for  a 
mutual  exchange  of  words  through  many  countries,  in  order  to 
perform  that  nuble  and  much  needed  work  of  building  up  a  fine 
model  of  language.  He  notes  the  absence  of  graceful  forms  of 
speech;  of  commencemeuts,  continuations,  and  conclusions  of 
sentences;  of  a  scientific  grammar  of  philology,  in  default  of 
which  he  has  been  obliged  to  make  "  a  kind  of"  grammar  for 
himself.  He  shows  that  there  were,  in  his  time,  no  good  col- 
lections of  antitheta,  sophisms,  and  arguments,  and  that  the 
good  sayings  of  the  ancients  were  lost,  or  choked  in  the  dust  of 
ages;  also  the  ancient  and  scriptural  use  of  parables,  figures, 
metaphors,  similes,  and  so  forth,  was  extinct;  the  sciences  were 
"weak  things"  weakly  handled;  the  learning  had  become 
"  words,  not  matter;"  "  the  muses  were  barren  virgins:"  poetry 
and  the  theatre  at  the  lowest  level. 

So  Bacon  found  things  when  he  conceived  his  magnificent  idea 
of  the  "  Universal  Reformation  of  the  whole  wide  world. "  He 
was  at  that  time  a  lad  of  fifteen,  and  there  is  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  he  had  already  written,  or  was  in  process  of  writing, 
poetry  and  other  works  which  passed  then,  and  at  later  periods, 
as  the  productions  of  men  of  mature  years,  "  authors  "  of  an 
earlier  or  later  date  than  is  generally  ascribed  to  the  works  of 
Francis  Bacon. 

And,  as  in  his  boyhood  he  found  the  world  of  science  and  litera- 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  35 

ture,  not  in  this  country  only,  but  also  on  the  continent  (for  he 
makes  no  exceptions  or  qualifications  to  his  statement  as  to  the  gen- 
eral ignorance  which  prevailed),  so,  excluding  his  own  work  from 
the  inquiry,  he  found  it  still,  when,  in  his  old  age,  he  for  the 
last  time  summed  up  the  wants  and  deficiencies  of  the  world  in 
all  these  matters.  In  youth,  enthusiasm  had  led  him  to  hope 
and  believe  in  a  speedy  regeneration  and  quickening  of  the 
minds  and  spirits  of  men.  In  old  age  he  had  learned  that  "  the 
dull  ass  will  not  mend  his  pace, "  and  that  such  advance  could 
only  be  by  slow  degrees,  and  in  the  future  ages.  "  Of  myself, " 
he  says.  "  I  am  silent,"  but  he  repeats  his  former  opinions  and 
statements  with  undiminished  emphasis  in  1623. 

In  the  face  of  such  facts  as  these,  it  appears  monstrous  to 
believe  that  there  could  really  have  been  in  Bacon's  time  that 
"  galaxy  of  wits, "  that  extraordinary  blaze  and  outburst  of 
light  from  many  suns,  and  from  a  heaven  full  of  stars  of  the 
first  magnitude,  such  as  we  have  been  taught  in  our  child- 
hood not  only  to  discern,  but  to  distinguish.  It  is  more  reason- 
able to  suppose  that  one  sun,  one  supreme  spirit,  the  great  nat- 
ural magician  and  natural  philosopher,  like  Prospero,  with 
many  "  meaner  ministers"  to  do  his  biddings,  should  have 
planned  and  carried  out,  by  a  method  to  be  transmitted  through 
the  whole  century,  that  Great  Reformation  of  the  whole  world 
which  had  been  his  boyish  dream,  his  fixed  idea  at  the  age  of 
fifteen.  Bacon's  chief  biographer  lays  stress  upon  this  fact,  and 
as  it  is  one  which  is  intimately  connected  with  the  history  of 
the  Secret  Society  which  is  the  subject  of  the  following  pages, 
it  is  desirable  that  it  should  be  firmly  established.  Again,  there- 
fore, we  draw  attention  to  the  eloquent  and  beautiful  chapter 
with  which  Mr.  Spedding  opens  his  "  Letters  and  Life  of  Bacon. " 
After  telling  of  the  brilliant  career  of  the  youthful  Francis  at 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  of  the  disappointment  which  he 
experienced  in  that  university  where  he  hoped  to  have  learned 
all  that  men  knew,  but  where,  as  he  declared,  they  taught 
"words,  not  matter,"  Mr.  Spedding  says:  "It  was  then  a 
thought  struck  him,  the  date  of  which  deserves  to  be  recorded, 
not  for  anything  extraordinary  in  the  thought  itself,  but  for  its 


36  FRANCIS  BACON 

influence  upon  his  after  life.  If  our  study  of  nature  be  thus 
barren,  he  thought,  our  method  of  study  must  be  wrong ;  might 
not  a  better  method  be  found  ?  In  him  the  gift  of  seeing  in 
prophetic  vision  what  might  be,  and  ought  to  be,  was  united 
with  the  practical  talent  of  devising  means  and  handling  minute 
details.  He  could  at  once  imagine  like  a  poet,  and  execute  like 
a  clerk  of  the  works.  Upon  the  conviction,  This  may  be  done, 
followed  at  once  the  question,  How  can  it  be  done?  Upon  that 
question  followed  the  resolution  to  try  and  do  it." 

Of  the  degrees  by  which  the  suggestion  ripened  into  a  project, 
the  project  into  an  undertaking,  and  the  undertaking  unfolded 
itself  into  distinct  propositions  and  the  full  grandeur  of  its  total 
dimensions,  I  can  say  nothing.  But  that  the  thought  first 
occurred  to  him  during  his  residence  at  Cambridge,  therefore 
before  he  had  completed  his  fifteenth  year,  we  know  on  the  best 
authority  —  his  own  statement  and  that  of  Dr.  Rawley.  "I 
believe,"  says  Mr.  Spedding,  "  that  it  ought  to  be  regarded  as 
the  most  important  event  of  his  life;  the  event  which  had  a 
greater  influence  than  any  other  upon  his  character  and  future 
course.  From  that  moment  there  was  awakened  within  his 
breast  the  appetite  which  cannot  be  satiated,  and  the  passion 
which  cannot  commit  excess.  From  that  moment  he  had  a 
vocation  which  employed  and  stimulated  all  the  energies  of  his 
mind,  gave  a  value  to  every  vacant  interval  of  time,  an  interest 
and  significance  to  every  random  thought  and  casual  accession 
of  knowledge ;  an  object  to  live  for,  as  wide  as  humanity,  as 
immortal  as  the  human  race;  an  idea  to  live  in,  vast  and  lofty 
enough  to  fill  the  soul  forever  with  religious  and  heroic  aspira- 
tions. From  that  moment,  though  still  subject  to  interruptions, 
disappointments,  errors,  regrets,  he  never  could  be  without  either 
work,  or  hope,  or  consolation. " 

The  biographer  then  shows  how  the  circumstances  of  Bacon's 
early  life  tended  to  enlist  him  on  the  side  of  reform,  religious, 
scientific,  literary,  and  philanthropic,  and  to  nourish  in  him  high 
and  loyal  aspirations. 

"  Assuming,  then, "  continues  he,  "  that  a  deep  interest  in 
these  three  great  causes  —  the  cause  of  reformed  religion,  of  his 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  37 

native  country,  and  of  the  human  race  through  all  their  genera- 
tions—  was  thus  early  implanted  in  that  vigorous  and  virgin 
soil,  we  must  leave  it  to  struggle  up  as  it  may,  according  to  the 
accidents  of  time  and  weather.  ...  Of  Bacon's  life  I  am  per- 
suaded that  no  man  will  ever  form  a  correct  idea,  unless  he  hear 
in  mind  that  from  very  early  youth  his  heart  was  divided  hy 
these  three  objects,  distinct  but  not  discordant."  * 

In  the  preface  to  the  Be  Interpretations  Natures  Prcemium 
(circa  1603)  Spedding  describes  that  paper  as  of  "  peculiar 
interest  for  us,  on  account  of  the  passage  in  which  Bacon 
explains  the  plans  and  purposes  of  his  life,  and  the  estimate  he 
had  formed  of  his  own  character  and  abilities;  a  passage  which 
was  replaced  in  the  days  of  his  greatness  by  a  simple  Be  nobis 
ipsis  silemus.  It  is  the  only  piece  of  autobiography  in  which  he 
ever  indulged, 2  and  deserves  on  several  accounts  to  be  carefully 
considered.  The  biographer  goes  on  to  say  that  Bacon's  Own 
account,  written  when  he  was  between  forty  and  fifty,  of  the 
plan. upon  which  his  life  had  been  laid  out,  the  objects  which  he 
mainly  aimed  at,  and  the  motives  which  guided  him,  will  be 
found,  when  compared  with  the  courses  which  he  actually 
followed  in  his  varied  life,  to  present  a  very  remarkable  example 
of  constancy  to  an  original  design.  He  began  by  conceiving 
that  a  wiser  method  of  studying  nature  would  give  man  the  key 
to  all  her  secrets,  but  the  work  would  be  long  and  arduous,  and 
the  event  remote ;  in  the  meanwhile,  he  would  not  neglect  the 
immediate  and  peculiar  services  which,  as  an  Englishman,  he 
owed  to  his  country  and  his  religion.  With  regard  to  the  last 
two  he  found,  as  life  wore  away,  that  the  means  and  opportuni- 
ties which  he  had  hoped  for  did  not  present  themselves;  and  he 
resolved  to  fall  back  upon  the  first,  as  an  enterprise  which 
depended  upon  himself  alone. " 

Perhaps  it  may  be  found  that  Bacon's  reason  for  throwing  his 
chief  weight  into  the  work  which  none  could  execute  except 
himself,  was  that  he  did  find  means  and  opportunities,  through 

1  Spedding,  Letters  and  Life  of  Bacon,  i.  4,  5. 

2  This  observation  will,  we  think,  require  modification.  " '  It  is  the  only 
piece  of  autobiography  which  he  acknowledges." 


38  FRANCIS  BACON 

others,  to  advance  not  only  politics  and  statesmanship,  but  relig- 
ion and  the  cause  of  the  church.  It  will,  however,  be  easily 
seen  that  if  Bacon  would  carry  forward  such  work,  in  times  so 
"  dark  and  dangerous,"  he  must  do  it  secretly,  and  by  the  aid 
of  powerful  friends  and  assistants.  We,  therefore,  find  ourselves 
engaged  in  tracing  the  workings  of  a  great  secret  society; 
and  since,  so  far  as  we  have  discovered,  that  work  depended 
mainly  upon  Bacon  himself,  it  is  necessary  to  regard  his  life  and 
actions  from  a  totally  new  point  of  view,  and  to  acknowledge  at 
the  outset  that,  excepting  in  the  capacity  of  lawyer,  which  he 
disliked  and  shrank  from;  of  courtier,  for  which  he  felt  himself 
"unapt;"  and  of  statesman,  for  which  he  pronounced  himself 
to  be  "  least  fit,"  very  little  is  really  known  about  Francis  Baccn. 

This  lack  of  satisfactory  information  has  probably  led  modern 
writers  too  much  to  copy  from  each  other,  without  duly  weigh- 
ing and  examining  statements  made  hastily,  to  turn  a  phrase, 
or  of  malice  prepense.  It  is  usual,  in  other  cases,  to  lay  great 
store  by  the  evidence  of  respectable  contemporary  authority. 
(Need  we  remind  any  one  of  the  eagerness  with  which  such  pieces 
of  evidence,  even  the  weakest,  have  been  snatched  at  and  en- 
shrined as  gems  of  priceless  value,  when  they  seemed  to  affect  Wil- 
liam Shakspere  ?)  But,  with  Francis  Bacon,  the  case  is  altered. 
Evidence  of  contemporary  writers,  such  as  Ben  Jonson,  or  Dr. 
Sprat,  president  of  the  Koyal  Society,  or  of  Bacon's  secretary, 
afterwards  the  Queen's  chaplain,  Dr.  Bawley,  or  of  his  intimate 
friend  and  life-long  correspondent,  Sir  Tobie  Matthew,  is  waived 
aside,  when  they  pour  out,  in  eloquent  language,  their  witness  as 
to  his  greatness,  his  genius,  his  sweetness,  and  devoutness  of 
disposition  and  mind.  Aubrey  is  "  a  gossip  "  when  he  echoes 
the  tale,  and  says,  emphasising  the  words,  that  "  all  who  were 
good  and  great  loved  him."  The  rest  were  "prejudiced,"  or 
"  partial, "  or  did  not  mean  what  they  said. 

Why  are  such  records  of  Bacon's  closest  friends,  secretaries, 
coadjutors,  and  contemporaries,  as  well  as  those  of  his  most 
painstaking  biographers,  and  of  his  most  appreciative  disciples 
and  followers,  to  be  rejected  in  favor  of  two  lines  of  poetry 
penned  more  than  a  hundred  years  after  his  death,  and  of  a  hos- 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  39 

tile  review  of  Basil  Montagu's  edition  of  Bacon's  works  ?  For 
many  years  those  two  lines  of  Pope,  and  that  review  of  Macau- 
lay,  together  with  Lord  Campbell's  odious  little  "  Life  of  Bacon" 
(based  upon  Macaulay's  essay),  were  nearly  all  that  the  English 
public  read  with  regard  to  "  Francis  Bacon,  the  glory  of  his  age 
and  nation,  the  adorner  and  ornament  of  learning, "  "  the  most 
prodigious  wit"  that  the  world  has  seen,  "  the  benefactor  of  the 
human  race  in  all  ages. " 

Let  us  forget  the  foolish  and  cruel  things  which  modern  igno- 
rance and  prejudice  have  said  of  him,  things  which  must  be  ex- 
cused and  partly  justified  by  our  theory  that  he  was,  throughout 
his  life,  a  "concealed  man" — not  only  a  "concealed  poet," 
but  a  concealed  theologian  and  religious  reformer  or  revivalist ; 
and  that,  by  the  very  rules  of  his  own  secret  society,  not  only 
was  he  bound,  in  these  capacities,  to  efface  himself,  to  allow  him- 
self to  be,  to  any  extent,  maligned  and  disgraced,  rather  than 
declare  his  real  vocation  and  aims,  but,  also  (and  this  is  very 
important),  his  own  friends  must  ignore  him,  as  he  must  likewise 
ignore  them,  in  all  relations  excepting  those  which  he  "  pro- 
fessed"— as  a  public  character  and  a  philosopher. 

In  the  following  chapters  we  shall  not  attempt  to  give  a 
"  life  "of  Bacon  in  his  accepted  characters  of  statesman,  lawyer, 
or  scientist,  all  of  which  has  been  faithfully,  and,  perhaps,  ex- 
haustively, treated  of  by  Speddiug  and  others.  •  Our  efforts  will 
be  directed  to  selecting,  from  the  writings  of  his  contemporaries 
and  later  biographers  and  critics,  some  passages  which  seem  to 
throw  light  upon  the  obscure  or  private  recesses  of  his  life — ■ 
passages  which  are  sometimes  introduced  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  favour  the  belief  that  they  were  intended  to  be  passed  over 
by  the  general  reader,  whilst,  to  the  initiated  observer,  they 
were  full  of  suggestion  and  information. 


CHAPTER   III. 

FRANCIS  BACON  :    A  MYSTERY  SURROUNDS  HIS  PRIVATE  LIFE 
AND   CHARACTER. 

"  I  prefer  to  keep  state  in  these  matters." 
"Behind  to  concealed  poets." 

THE  more  closely  we  peer  into  Bacon's  history,  the  more  par- 
ticularly we  follow  up  iuquiries  about  him, — his  private  life, 
his  habits,  his  travels,  his  frieuds,  his  will,  his  death, — the  more 
mysterious  a  personage  does  he  appear.  His  public  or  super- 
ficial life  seems  easy  enough  to  understand,  but  whenever  we 
endeavour  to  go  beyond  this  we  find  ourselves  continually  con- 
fronted with  puzzles  and  euigmas,  and  we  feel  that  Ben  Jonson 
was  justified  in  saying,  in  his  ode  on  Bacon's  birthday, — 

"  Thou  stand'st  as  though  a  mystery  thou  didst." 

This  mystery  is  felt  in  many  ways.  Several  times  we  find  him 
writing  with  looked  doors,  tbe  subject  of  bis  labours  not  known, 
his  friends  offended  by  his  secresy  and  reticence.  We  find  collec- 
tions of  his  letters,  distinctly  his,  and  with  notbing  in  them  which 
could  apparently  injure  the  writer,  or  any  one  else,  published 
with  names  and  dates  cancelled,  and  with  everything  possible 
done  to  conceal  their  aim  or  tbeir  author.  We  find  him  writing 
in  ambiguous  terms  (wbich  only  knowledge  derived  from  other 
sources  enables  us  to  interpret),  and  using  feigned  names,  ini- 
tials, and  pass-words  in  his  private  letters.  Tbe  cipher  wbich 
he  invented  when  he  was  eighteen  or  nineteen  years  old,  he  has 
used  and  tested,  and  finds  to  be  superior  to  all  others,  when  he 
is  sixty-two.  How,  when,  and  wherefore,  did  he  use  or  require 
this  extensive  knowledge  and  use  of  ciphers?  And,  in  describ- 
ing the  ciphers,  he  speaks  of  other  concealed  means  of  cojn- 

(4°) 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY,  41 

inunication,  of  short-hand  writing,  of  hieroglyphic  pictures  and 
designs.  Since  he  tells  us  that  what  he  recommends  he  always 
endeavours  to  practice  or  achieve,  we  seek  for  these  things  in 
his  own  books,  and  find  them  there. 

He  enumerates  the  thirty  or  forty  great  deficiencies  of  learn- 
ing in  his  time,  and  shows  how  he  has  endeavoured  to  supply 
them;  we  take  much  pains  to  master  these,  to  understand  them 
thoroughly,  and  to  trace  them  in  his  works.  Thus  armed  and  well 
prepared,  we  set  forth  to  mark  their  deficiency,  or  to  compare 
their  use  in  works  by  other  contemporary  authors.  We  are  al- 
most appalled  to  meet  with  them  there,  too,  sometimes  fewer  in 
number,  but  the  same  in  nature  and  quality.  What  is  to  be  thought 
of  this?  That  Bacon  did  not  know  what  he  was  talking  about? 
or  that  there  was  a  general  conspiracy  of  the  wits  of  his  age  to 
gull  the  public  as  to  the  authorship  of  these  works  ?  If  they 
were  Bacon's  works,  why  did  he  not  acknowledge  them  ?  Yet,  if 
they  were  not  his,  how  could  he  persist  that  all  the  chief  flow- 
ers of  language  were  uncultivated,  when  the  works  in  question 
were  overrun  by  them  ? 

There  are  many  knotty  points  connected  with  this  branch  of 
the  subject.  Why,  for  instance,  did  Bacou,  notably  so  kind,  so 
large-hearted,  so  just  in  acknowledging  merit  in  others,  and  in 
"  giving  authors  their  due,  as  he  gave  Time  his  due,  which  is  to 
discover  Truth"  — why,  wo  say,  did  he  ignore  the  existence  of 
nearly  every  great  contemporary  author?  How  came  it  that 
this  bright  man,  who  so  pre-eminently  shone  in  his  power  of 
drawing  out  the  best  parts  of  those  with  whom  he  conversed, 
who  delighted,  when  quoting  from  others,  to  set  an  additional 
sparkle  on  their  words,  and  to  make  them  appear  cleverer  or 
more  learned  than  they  really  were  —  how  did  such  a  man  con- 
trive to  avoid  all  allusion  to  the  mass  of  great  literature  of  all 
kinds  which  was  poured  out  unremittingly  during  nearly  fifty 
years  of  his  life,  and  which  continued  for  some  years  after  his 
death? 

Bacon  spoke  of  parabolic  poetry  as  deficient,  and  the  use  of  it 
lost  or  misunderstood;  and  he  ignores  the  Arcadia,  the  Faerie 
Queene,  and  the  Shepherd's  Calendar. 


42  FRANCIS  BACON 

In  1623  he  mourns  the  degradation  of  the  theatre,  and  the 
contempt  with  which  the  noble  arts  of  rhetoric  and  stage 
playing  were  treated,  ignoring  the  Shakespeare  plays,  which 
had  at  that  time  been  played  upon  the  stage  for  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century,  and  of  which  the  first  collected  edition 
had  just  been  (almost  simultaneously  with  the  publica- 
tion of  the  Be  Augmentis)  published,  heralded  into  the 
world  with  a  great  flourish  of  trumpets  by  Ben  Jonson. 
He  equally  ignores  Ben  Jonson,  although  Every  Man  in 
his  Humour  was  acted  at  the  Blackfriar's  Theatre  in  1598  (two 
or  three  years  after  the  first  appearance  of  the  Shakespeare 
plays),  and  although,  too,  William  Shakspere  acted  on  this 
occasion. 

It  is  remarkable  that  it  should  have  ever  been,  for  an  instant, 
credited  that  Francis  Bacon  never  saw  the  Shakespeare  plays 
performed,  or  even  that  he  should  not  have  known  all  about  the 
plays,  and  the  man  who  was  passing  with  the  public  as  their 
author.  For  thirty  years  Shakspere  lived  in  London.  During 
those  years  Bacon  was  continually  assisting,  and  promoting,  and 
joyfully  witnessing  the  performances  of  these  and  other  plays,  at 
Gray's  Inn  and  Whitehall,  and  at  the  private  houses  of  his 
friends  the  Earls  of  Leicester,  Pembroke,  Montgomery,  and 
others.  Why  did  he  never,  in  any  acknowledged  work,  allude 
to  Shakespeare  or  to  Ben  Jonson,  who,  as  has  been  shown,  was 
at  one  time  resident  in  his  house  ? 

Essays  were  a  new  form  of  writing,  and  the  very  word 
"  essay,"  Bacon  tells  us,  was  new.  One  would  suppose  that  in 
saying  this  he  would  allude  to  the  "  Essays  of  Montaigne, "  pub- 
lished long  before  Bacon's  "Moral  Essays."  All  the  more  he 
might  be  expected  to  allude  to  Montaigne,  because,  at  the  time 
of  the  publication  of  the  first  edition  of  Montaigne's  Essays, 
Francis  and  Anthony  Bacon  were  living  in  the  South  of  France, 
and  on  very  intimate  terms  with  the  good  mayor,  "  the  kind 
patron  of  learned  men, "  as  we  learn  from  Anthony  Bacon's  cor- 
respondence. But,  although  the  friendship  between  these  men 
continued  to  the  end  of  Montaigne's  life,  and  although  the  old 
man  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Yerulam  to  visit  his  younger  friend, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  43 

yet  Bacon,  in  his  enumeration  of  deficiencies,  makes  no  allusion 
to  him  as  the  author  of  essays  which  were  in  their  day  most 
famous,  and  which  ran  through  a  surprising  number  of  editions 
within  a  few  years. 

John  Florio  is  supposed  to  have  translated  these  French  essays 
into  English.  Now,  we  have  documentary  evidence  that  Florio 
translated  "  all  the  works  of  Bacon  "  into  foreign  languages  (we 
suppose  French  and  Italian),  and  " published  them  beyond  the 
seas.'1  Bacon,  then,  must  have  been  intimately  acquainted 
with  Florio.  Yet  he  never  mentions  him.  James  I.  gave  Florio 
an  annuity  of  £30  per  annum,  because  he  had  "  translated  the 
King's  work,  and  all  the  works  of  Viscount  St.  Albans."  So 
James,  also,  was  deeply  interested  in  Bacon's  proceedings.  It 
might  have  been  supposed  that  the  circumstance  of  his  having 
pensioned  Florio  because  the  latter  translated  Bacon's  works, 
would  have  been  noted  by  Bacon's  biographers,  and  that  more  in- 
quiries would  have  been  made  concerning  Florio  and  some  remark- 
able works  in  English  which  are  attributed  to  him.  But  no;  the 
whole  matter  seems  to  have  been  studiously  kept  in  the  back- 
ground. The  documents  which  record  the  fact  of  tne  transla- 
tion and  subsequent  pensioning  have  been  printed  by  the  His- 
torical Manuscripts  Commission.  But,  although  the  editors  and 
publishers  must  know  of  them,  their  purport  lies  unheeded, 
uncommented  on.  A  paragraph  inserted  in  Notes  and  Queries, 
in  which  the  inquiry  was  made  as  to  any  book  or  books  of  Bacon's 
known  to  have  been  translated  by  Florio,  and  published  on  the 
continent,  has  never  been  answered.  Yet,  amongst  the  tran- 
scribers, editors,  and  publishers  of  the  "  Pembroke  Papers  "  by 
the  Historical  Commission,  there  must  have  been  men  who  are 
acquainted  with  the  current  history  of  Bacon,  and  who  must 
have  seen  something  strange  in  the  fact  that  James  I.  granted 
an  annuity  to  the  supposed  translator  of  Montaigne's  Essays,  on 
the  ground  of  his  being  the  translator  of  all  Bacon's  works. 

Then,  again,  the  sixteen  folio  volumes  of  Anthony  Bacon's 
correspondence  which  rest  under  the  dust  of  oblivion  on  the 
shelves  of  the  library  at  Lambeth  Palace  — how  comes  it  that 
these,  too,  have  been  so  much  kept  in  the  background  that,  on 


44  FRANCIS  BA  CON 

tracing  a  letter  of  Nicholas  Faunt  to  Anthony  Bacon,  which  is 
the  first  alluded  to  by  Mr.  Spedding  (and  this  in  a  foot-note),  we 
find  it  to  be  one  of  a  large  and  important  collection  which  throws 
great  light  upon  the  position  and  aims  of  the  Bacons?  Two  or 
three  references  are  all  that  can  be  found  to  this  voluminous 
correspondence. 

The  sense  of  mystery  is  again  perceptible  in  the  explanations 
given  by  Bacon's  biographers  of  his  system  of  philosophy,  or 
"  methods, "  which  are,  of  course,  treated  of  as  applying  merely 
to  the  science  which  is  their  ostensible  aim.  This  evident  and 
intentional  obscurity  has  been  rightly  attributed  to  two  causes. 
First,  he  hoped,  by  his  method  of  teaching  by  means  of  parables, 
similitudes,  and  analogies,  to  avoid  all  occasion  of  dispute  and 
controversy,  things  always  abhorrent  to  his  nature.  Next,  his 
doctrine  was  to  be  veiled  in  an  abrupt  and  obscure  style,  such 
as,  to  use  his  own  expression,  would  "  choose  its  reader  "  —  that 
is,  would  remain  unread  excepting  by  worthy  recipients  of  its 
hidden  meaning.  This  affected  obscurity  appears  in  the  De 
Interpretations  Natures  Prcemium,  where  he  speaks  of  his 
peculiar  method  as  a  thing  not  to  be  published,  but  to  be  commu- 
nicated orally  to  certain  persons.  The  same  veil  of  mystic  lan- 
guage is  thrown  over  Valerius  Terminus,  the  Temporis  Partus 
Masculus,  and,  as  we  now  know,  over  the  New  Atlantis.  The 
whole  of  the  notes  in  the  Sylva  Sylvarum,  the  Histories  of  Dense 
and  Bare,  of  Sulphur,  Mercury,  and  Salt,  of  Principles  and 
Origins  according  to  the  Tables"  of  Cupid  and  Ccelam,  and  even, 
we  believe,  the  Thema  Cceli,  the  History  of  the  Winds,  the 
Interpretation  of  Nature,  the  History  of  Life  and  Death,  the  New 
Atlantis,  are.  written  with  a  doublo  meaning  and  for  a  double 
purpose,  and  the  same  ambiguity  pervades  the  collections  of 
letters  to  and  from  Anthony  Bacon  and  Francis  himself. 

There  are  upwards  of  sixty  letters  from  Anthony  Stauden  to 
Anthony  Bacon  previous  to  the  one  from  which  Spedding  ex- 
tracts his  first  quotation ;  and  there  are  other  correspondents 
whose  letters  will,  undoubtedly,  at  some  future  date,  be  held  of 
great  value  and  interest.  The  drift  of  these  letters  must  have 
been  understood  by  the  compilers  of  the  printed  catalogue  of 


AND  HIS  SECRET  S0CIET1  45 

the  Tenison  manuscripts,  and  by  biographers  who  have  quoted 
from  some  of  these  letters.  What  satisfactory  reason  can  be 
given  for  the  fact  that  a  hiut  of  the  existence  of  this  corre- 
spondence is  here  and  there  given,  and  letters  are  published 
which  bear  directly  upon  politics  or  the  passing  history  of  the 
day,  but  that  the  true  purport  of  the  collective  correspondence 
is  everywhere  concealed  f  For  these  letters,  taken  collectively, 
have  a  distinct  and  harmonious  aim  aud  drift.  They  teach  us  that 
Francis  Bacon  was  the  recognised  head  of  a  secret  society  bound 
together  to  advance  learning  and  to  uphold  religion,  and  that 
Anthony  Bacon  was  his  brother's  propagandist  and  correspond- 
ing manager  on  the  continent. 

It  seems  very  probable  that  future  research  will  prove  Anthony 
Bacon  to  have  been  "  a  concealed  poet,"  as  well  as  his 
brother.  If  this  was  not  the  case,  then  Anthony  must  have  been 
another  of  the  many  masks  behind  which  Francis  screened  his  own 
personality;  but  the  former  seems  to  be  the  more  probable  conjec- 
ture. Amongst  the  "  Tenison  manuscripts  "  at  Lambeth  Palace, 
there  is  a  large  sheet  covered  on  three  sides  with  French  verses, 
headed  "  Au  Seigneur  Antoine  Bacon  — Elegie,"  and  signed  La 
Tessee.  These  verses  described  "  Bacon  "  as  the  flower  of 
Englishmen,  the  honour  of  the  nine  Muses,  who,  without  his  aid, 
wandered  sad  and  confused  in  the  wilderness,  without  guide, 
support,  or  voice.  The  writer  laments  the  want  of  more 
Mecenases  who  should  value  the  favourites  of  Phoebus,  Mercury, 
and  Themis,  aud  "  lend  a  shoulder  "  to  help  poets;  in  future,  he 
trusts  that  the  number  of  these  will  be  glorified  not  less  beyond 
the  seas  than  in  these  islands,  remembering  a  time  "  when  our 
swans  surpassed  those  of  the  Thames  "—alluding  to  the  loss  of 
Bonsard,  Gamier,  Aurat,  Bayf,  aud  Saluste.  Himself,  the  sur- 
viving poet,  sees  a  new  Age  of  Iron  after  their  Age  of  Gold.  He 
alludes  to  "  Bacon  "  as  "  a  brilliant  star  seen  in  tranquil  nights 
as  through  a  thick  veil;"  so  a  man  of  honour,  virtue,  and  wit 
shines  amongst  these  "milords,"  and  so  does  "Bacon,"  the 
"  oracle  of  his  isle. "  one  whom  to  praise  is  an  honour. 

Such  a  man,  continues  the  poet,  is  the  hope  and  ornament  of 
his  country.    To  him  Themis,  the  wise  (by  the  messenger  Her- 


46  FRANCIS  BACON 

cuvj,  who  expounds  her  message),  entreats  heaven,  earth,  and  the 
infernal  regions  to  forward  his  steps.  To  him  "  devout  Piety, 
the  pillar  of  the  church,  offers  her  most  precious  gifts,  that  he 
may  rank  with  immortal  heroes, "for  "so  rare  a  spirit,  con- 
tinually Dent  upon  safely  steering  the  helm  of  the  state  in  the 
stormiest  times,  is  not  unworthy  that  the  state  should  care  for  his 
interests.  Baccon  [sic],  the  eye  of  wisdom,  in  whom  goodness 
abounds,  raises  men  above  themselves  and  above  the  world.  He 
retiresinto  himself — a  perfect  and  holy  place — his  soul  wrapped 
in  his  reason,  and  his  reason  wrapped  in  God." 

Surely,  though  the  poetry  is  poor,  the  matter  of  these  verses 
is  sufficiently  remarkable  for  them  to  have  been  commented 
upon  by  some  biographer  or  antiquarian  ?  "We  note,  then,  as  a 
remarkable  fact,  that  these  verses  (numbered  folio  175,  in  vol. 
xv.  661)  are  not  included  in  the  printed  catalogue.  Nos.  174  and 
176  are  duly  registered,  but  175  is  omitted.  Could  this  omis- 
sion be  accidental  ? 

In  the  Harleian  MSS.  there  is  the  collection  of  notes  described 
as  the  "  Promus  of  Formularies  and  Elegancies."  These  papers 
consist  of  fifty  sheets,  numbered  from  83  to  132,  and  the  collec- 
tion is  marked  No.  7017.  It  is  omitted  in  the  catalogue.1  Yet, 
within  the  last  few  years,  these  HSS.  have  been  frequently  seen 
and  studied  by  various  inquirers. 

By  and  by  there  will  be  occasion  to  return  to  these  ques- 
tions; they  involve  a  great  many  others  which  we  must  not,  at 
present,  stop  to  consider.  But  the  list  of  inquiries  in  other 
directions  is  still  a  long  one,  and  should  incline  those  who 
heartily  desire  to  get  at  the  pith  and  truth  of  these  matters,  to 
be  very  humble  as  to  their  own  knowledge,  very  cautious  about 
adopting  ready-made  opinions  or  assertions,  which,  when  tested, 
are  found  incapable  of  supporting  themselves. 

What  was  the  cause  of  Bacon's  great  poverty  at  times  when  he 
was  living  very  quietly,  and  at  small  personal  expense?  Why 
did  his  elder  brother  Anthony  never  remonstrate  or  disapprove 

i  Rather  it  was  omitted  until  June,  1890,  when  a  gentleman,  who  became 
aware  of  the  omission,  requested  that  the  MSS.  No.  7017  should  be  duly  regis- 
tered in  the  catalogue. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  47 

of  his  uuexplained  expenditure,  or  of  the  straits  to  which  he 
himself  was  sometimes  put,  in  order  to  meet  the  claims  upon 
Francis?  Did  the  brothers'  money  go  chiefly  in  publishing? 
And  again  we  say,  what  share  did  Anthony  Bacon  take  in  his 
brother's  works  ?  If,  as  Dr.  Rawley  declared,  his  learning  was 
not  so  profound,  but  his  wit  was  as  high  as  Francis's,  did  he, 
perhaps,  frame  the  plots  of  many  of  the  plays  which  Francis 
polished  and  finished  ?  Where  did  Anthony  die  ?  Where  is  he 
buried?  The  absence  of  knowledge  on  this  point  draws  our 
attention  to  the  number  of  "  great  writers"  and  personal  friends 
of  Francis  Bacon  who  died  and  were  buried  without  notice  or 
epitaph ;  a  plain  slab  sometimes  marking  the  grave,  but  no 
mention  being  made  of  any  works  of  which  they  were  the 
authors.  Yet  "  monuments  of  brass  and  stone"  were  then,  as 
now,  the  rule,  rather  than  the  exception.  On  comparing  the 
tombs  of  Bacon's  friends,  certain  singular  resemblances  strike 
the  eye,  and  are  peculiar  (so  we  think)  to  them  and  to  their 
descendants. 

Such  coincidences  ought,  one  would  think,  to  be  easily  ex- 
plained where  such  a  man  is  concerned;  but  search  the  records 
of  the  time  which  are,  up  to  the  present  date,  published,  and 
see  how  far  you  can  enlighten  yourselves  as  to  any  particulars 
of  Bacon's  domestic  life.  It  becomes,  after  long  search,  impos- 
sible to  resist  the  idea  that  Bacon  had  some  great  purpose  to 
serve  by  keeping  himself  always  in  the  background  — behind  the 
curtain.  Whenever  you  catch  a  glimpse  of  him  "  he  goes  away 
in  a  cloud." 

It  likewise  seems  that  the  whole  of  his  most  dear  and  loving 
friends  combined  to  conceal  his  true  personality,  to  assist  him  to 
enact  the  part  of  Proteus,  and  to  ensure  that  when  he  should 
appear  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  he  should  be  able  to  pass 
unrecognised.  Amongst  Anthony's  correspondents,  he  is  rarely 
mentioned,  but  often  alluded  to  as  "  the  Hermit,"  the  character 
which  perhaps  he  himself  undertook  in  the  Gesta  Grayorum. 
There  are  also  some  short  poems,  especially  one  adorned  with  a 
device  of  a  hermit  spurning  a  globe,  which  seem  to  apply  to 
Francis  Bacon,  and  to  have  been  written  by  him. 


48  FRANCIS  BACON 

When  the  French  ambassador,  the  Marquis  Fiat,  visited  him 
during  an  illness,  he  said  that  his  lordship  had  ever  been  to 
him  like  the  angels,  of  whom  he  had  often  heard  and  read,  but 
never  seen.  "  After  which  visit  they  contracted  an  intimate  ac- 
quaintance, and  the  Marquis  did  so  much  revere  him,  that 
besides  his  frequent  visits  [of  which  history  tells  us  nothing] 
they  wrote  letters  under  the  appellations  of  father  and  son."  l 

With  regard  to  Bacon's  life,  it  is  impossible  to  study  it  with 
any  degree  of  care,  without  observing  how  often  in  his  biog- 
raphies we  come  upon  questions  or  doubts  such  as  these:  "  Was 
he  the  author  of  Notes  on  the  present  state  of  Christendom  ?  >  "  2. 
"  Reasons  for  suspecting  him  to  be  author  of  a1  Letter  of  Advice  to 
the  Queen.  ">3  "  This  alleged  authorship  of  'A  Discourse  touching 
the  Low  Countries,  etc. '  "4  "  Resemblance  between  Bacon's  style 
and  that  of  writings  imputed  to  Essex,"  5  etc. 

We  read  of  his  reluctance  to  devote  himself  to  the  practice  of 
a  lawyer,  and  of  the  difficulty  of  understanding  what  else  he 
proposed  to  himself,  or  to  what  course  he  actually  betook  him- 
self in  the  year  1595-6. 6  "  I  do  not  find,"  says  his  biographer, 
any  letter  of  his  that  can  be  assigned  to  the  winter  of  1596, 
nor  have  I  met,  among  his  brother's  papers,  with  anything 
which  indicates  what  he  was  about.  I  presume,  however,  that 
he  betook  himself  to  his  studies."  He  then  gives  a  list  of  a 
few  fragments  written  at  this  time.  "  But  there  are,"  he  con- 
tinues, "  some  other  compositions  with  which  (though  they  do 
not  pass  under  his  name)  there  is  reason  to  believe  he  had 
something  to  do.  and  which,  considering  the  possibility  that 
that  are  entirely  his  work,  and  the  probability  that  they  have  some 
of  his  ivork  in  them,  and  their  intrinsic  value,  I  have  deter- 
mined to  lay  before  the  reader  in  this  chapter."7  The  biog- 
rapher then  enumerates  the  contents  of  a  box  of  letters  and 
other  papers  which  dated  from  this  time,  and  which  were  in 
charge  of  Dr.  Tenison  in  1682.  Amongst  these,  one  of  the  most 
important  was  "  The  Earl  of  Essex's  advice  to  the  Earl  of  Rut- 

1  Kawley's  Life  of  Bacon.       2  Let.  Life,  i.  16,  17.  3  lb.  43,  56,  etc. 

4  lb.  67.  5  lb.  391.  6  lb.  ii.  1.  1  lb.  ii.  2. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  49 

land  on  his  journey, "  of  which  three  versions  seem  to  exist,1 
and  which  Spedding  shows  to  be  written  so  much  in  Bacon's 
style  as  to  be  undistinguishable  from  it.  "  If  Essex  wrote  a 
letter  of  grave  advice  to  a  young  relative  going  on  his  travels,  it 
would,  no  doubt,  have  a  good  deal  of  Bacon  in  it;  if  Bacon 
drew  up  a  letter  for  Essex  to  sign,  it  would  be  such  a  one  as 
Essex  might  naturally  have  written.  Still,  there  is  a  charac- 
ter in  language  as  in  handwriting,  which  it  is  hardly  possible 
to  disguise.  Little  tricks  of  thought,  like  tricks  of  the  hand, — 
peculiarities  of  which  the  writer  is  unconscious,— are  percept- 
ible to  the  reader. "  2  Presently  a  similar  question  of  author- 
ship arises  with  regard  to  a  "  Letter  of  advice  from  the  Earl  of 
Essex  to  Foulke  Greville; " 3  and  again  the  true  author  seems  to 
be  Bacon. 

Then  we  find  a  "  Letter  of  advice  to  the  Earl  of  Essex, "  which, 
"  like  several  others  we  shall  meet  icith,  has  been  preserved 
through  two  independent  channels,  and  in  two  different  forms; 
one  in  the  collection  kept  by  himself,  and  printed  by  Rawley  in 
the  Resuscitatio,  the  other  in  a  collection  made,  ive  do  not  know 
by  tvhom,  and  printed  very  incorrectly  in  the  'Remains1  (1648), 
and  afterward  in  the  '  Cabala1  (1654)."  4 

There  is  a  mystery  about  Sir  Tobie  Matthew's  collection  of  let- 
ters to  and  from  Bacon.  These  letters  are,  as  a  rule,  not  only 
without  a  date,  but  likewise  they  appear  to  have  been  "  strip- 
ped of  all  particulars  that  might  serve  to  fit  the  occasion"  for 
which  they  were  penned;  sometimes,  even,  the  person  to  whom 
they  were  addressed.  One  of  these  letters,  "  Desiring  a  friend 
to  do  him  a  service,"  is  remarkable,  as  showing  that,  although 
the  matter  which  it  concerns  was  of  some  importance,  and  might 
bring  serious  consequences  to  Bacon  (he  says  that  it  will  prob- 
ably "  fall  and  seize  on"  him),  yet  it  had  been  put  out  of  his 
mind  by  some    great  "  invention"  or   work   of  imagination, 

1  One  is  in  the  Harleian  MSS.  (6265,  p.  428).    Sped.  Let.  Life,  i.  4. 

2  lb.  5. 

3  lb.  21. 

*  Spedding,  Let.  Life,  ii.  94.  This  letter  is  suspected  of  cipher  and  should  be 
examined. 


50  FRANCIS  BACON 

which  at  the  time  wholly  engrossed  him.  What  was  the  par- 
ticular occasion  upon  which  this  letter  was  written,  it  is,  says 
Spedding,  "  probably  impossible  to  guess,"  but  it  was  as  fol- 
lows : 

"  Sir: — The  report  of  this  act,  which  I  hope  may  prove  the  last  of 
thisbusiness,  iv ill, probably,  by  the  weight  it  carries,  fall  on  and  seize 
me.  And,  therefore,  not  at  will,  bat  upon  necessity,  it  will  become 
me  to  call  to  mind  what  passed;  and,  my  head  being  then  wholly 
employed  upon  invention,  I  may  the  ivorse  put  things  upon  the  ac- 
count of  mine  own  memory.  I  shall  take  physic  to-day,  upon 
this  change  of  weather  and  vantage  of  leisure;  and  I  pray  you  not 
to  allow  yourself  so  much  business,  but  that  you  may  have  time 
to  bring  me  your  friendly  aid  before  night,"  etc.  i 

Another  letter,  dateless,  but  which  has  been  referred  to 
1605-6,  is  all  written  in  a  tone  of  mystery  and  double  entente  — 
there  seems  to  be  no  good  reason  why  Bacon  should  plainly 
mention  by  name  one  work  which  he  had  accomplished,  and 
carefully  omit  the  name  of  another,  or  others,  in  which  it  is  clear 
that  his  friend  was  interested : 

"  Sir: — I  perceive  you  have  some  time  when  you  can  be  content 
to  think  of  your  friends,  from  whom,  since  you  have  borrowed  your- 
self, you  do  well,  not  paying  the  principal,  to  send  the  interest  at 
six  months  day.  The  relation  which  here  I  send  you  inclosed 
carries  the  truth  of  that  which  is  public;  and  though  my  little 
leisure  might  have  required  a  briefer,  yet  the  matter  would  have 
endured  and  asked  a  larger. 

"  I  have  now  at  last  taught  that  child  to  go,  at  the  sioadling 
whereof  you  ivere.  My  work  touching  the  Advancement  of  Learn- 
ing I  have  put  into  two  books;  whereof  the  former,  which  you 
saw,  I  count  but  as  a  page  to  the  latter, "  etc2 

In  another  ambiguous  letter  to  Sir  Tobie  Matthew  {circa  1609), 
Bacon  says:  "  I  have  sent  you  some  copies  of  the  Advancement 
which  you  desired;  and  a  little  work  of  my  recreation,  which  you 
desired  not.    My  Installation  I  reserve  for  our  conference  —  it 

1  See  Sir  Tobie  Matthew's  collection  of  letters,  p.  20,  or  Spedding,  Let.  and 
Life,  iii.  216. 

2  Spedding,  iii.  255;  Sir  T.  M.'s  coll.  p.  11. 


ANT)  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  51 

sleeps  not.  Those  works  of  the  alphabet  arc  in  my  opinion  of  less 
use  to  you  ivhere  you  are  now,  than  at  Paris,  and  therefore  I  con- 
ceived that  you  had  sent  me  a  kind  of  tacit  countermand  of  your 
former  request.  But,  in  regard  that  some  friends  of  yours 
have  still  insisted  here,  I  ssni  them  to  you;  ani  for  my  part  I 
value  your  reading  more  titan  your  publishing  them  to  others. 
Thus,  in  extreme  haste,  I  have  scribbled  to  you  I  know  not  ivhat, " 
etc.i 

"  What  these  works  of  the  alphabet  may  have  beeu,  I  cannot 
guess,"  says  Speckling,  in  commenting  upon  this  letter,  "  unless 
they  related  to  Bacon's  cipher,  in  which,  by  means  of  two  alpha- 
bets, one  having  only  two  letters,  the  other  having  two  forms 
for  each  of  the  twenty-four  letters,  any  words  you  please  may 
be  so  written  as  to  signify  any  other  words,  provided  only  that 
the  open  writing  contains  at  least  five  times  as  many  letters  as 
the  concealed."2 

In  the  Promus,  the  mysterious  letter  has  been  connected  with 
an  entry  in  which  Bacon  seems  to  connect  the  plays  with  an 
alphabet:  Ijsdem  filter  is  efflcitur  tragcedia  et  comedia  (Trag- 
edies and  comedies  are  made  of  one  alphabet),3  and  the  first  im- 
pression conveyed  by  this  entry  was  that  the  alphabet  was  a 
secret  term  to  express  the  comedies  and  tragedips,  since  Bacon 
quotes  Aristotle  to  the  effect  that  u  Words  are  the  images  of 
cogitations,  and  letters  are  the  images  of  words. "  The  recent 
discoveries  of  Mr.  Donnelly  and  others  seem  to  enhance  the 
probability  that  the  entry  in  question  refers  to  the  plays  contain- 
ing a  cipher,  the  word  alphabet  bearing  in  this  case  abifold  allusion, 
to  the  nature  of  the  tragedies  and  comedies,  and  a  double  fitness. 

And  how  are  we  to  interpret  the  following  passage  from  a 
letter  of  March  27,  1621-2,  to  Mr.  Tobie  Matthew?  "  If  upon 
your  repair  to  the  court  (whereof  I  am  right  glad)  you  have  any 
speech  with  the  Marquis  [of  Buckingham]  of  me,  I  pray  p  'ace 
the  alphabet,  as  you  can  do  it  right  well,  in  a  frame,  to  express 
my  love,  faithful  and  ardent,  to  him. " 

1  Spedding,  i.  134,  and  Sir  T.  M.  p.  14. 

2  Let.  Life,  iv.  134. 

3  Promus,  516.    The  Latin  quotation  from  Erasmus'  Adagia,  725. 


52  FRANCIS  BACON 

It  has  been  suggested  that  this  was  a  proposal  (not  carried 
out)  that  Sir  Tobie  should  collect  and  edit  the  plays,  and  fit 
them  to  be  presented  as  a  tribute  to  the  Marquis.  Or  it  is  pos- 
sible that  the  mysterious  words  express  a  wish  that  some  mes- 
sage should  be  introduced  in  the  alphabet  cipher,  which  the 
Marquis  would,  supposing  him  to  be  a  member  of  the  secret 
society,  be  able  to  interpret.  If  so,  this  letter  gives  a  hint  of 
the  system  which  the  present  writer  believes  to  have  been  pur- 
sued with  regard  to  nearly  all  these  cipher  notes  or  narratives, 
namely,  that  Bacon  provided  the  materials  or  substance  of  the 
information  to  be  conveyed,  but  that  his  "  sons, "  or  disciples,  did 
the  mechanical  work  of  fitting  type,  and  other  particulars,  for 
the  reception  of  the  matter. 

We  turn  to  a  consideration  of  Bacon's  character,  his  motives 
and  aims  in  life,  about  which  one  would  suppose  that  at  this 
hour  there  could  be  no  difficulty  in  arriving  at  a  definite  con- 
clusion. How  many  distinguished  pens  have  been  busy  with 
lives,  treatises,  and  essays  on  Francis  Bacon !  Here,  at  least, 
it  may  be  expected  that  the  mists  of  doubt  and  darkness  shall 
have  been  cleared  away,  and  that  we  may  rest  upon  positive 
authority.  We  are  prepared  to  receive  many  shocks  to  our 
feelings,  to  find  flaws  in  the  character  which  we  would  wish  to 
be  an  entire  and  perfect  chrysolite  ;  still,  it  will  be  at  least  satis- 
factory to  know  that  the  whole  truth  is  laid  out  before  us,  even 
if  the  contraries  of  good  and  evil  must  appear  in  this  as  in  all 
things  human. 

But  here  the  confusion  is  worse  than  ever;  the  contradictions, 
the  divergencies  of  opinion,  are  as  extraordinary  amongst  those 
who  have  read  much  or  something  about  Bacon  as  they  are 
amongst  those  who  have  read  little  or  nothing.  Who  has  been 
more  admired,  more  shamed,  more  spitefully  or  conscientiously 
abused,  more  revered  and  loved  than  Francis  Bacon?  A 
strange  and  wonderful  man  surely,  who  can  be  the  subject  of  so 
many  opposed  opinions !  Somebody  is  right  and  somebody  is 
wrong,  that  is  clear,  and  we  proceed  to  relieve  the  oppression 
produced  by  this  cloud  of  witnesses,  by  putting  down  on  paper 
the  verdicts  delivered  by  the  numerous  self-constituted  judges 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  53 

who  are  the  great  authorities  of  the  present  day.  To  these  we 
will  add  the  utterances  of  Bacon's  friends  and  contemporaries, 
who  surely  have  an  equal  right  to  be  heard. 

The  startling  result  is  this:  That  it  is  hardly  possible  to  pro- 
duce a  single  statement  concerning  Bacon's  character,  disposi- 
tion, motives  or  aims,  made  by  one  "  great  authority, "  which  is 
not  contradicted  by  another  authority,  equally  great.  The  fol- 
lowing are  specimens  of  this  kind  of  comparison — they  might 
be  trebled  in  volume — but  they  are  enough  to  show  that  in 
this,  as  in  other  particulars,  there  is  a  mystery,  and  a  want  of 
accurate  knowledge  concerning  our  great  subject. 


THE  CHARACTER  AND  GENIUS  OF  FRANCIS  BACON  AS  DESCRIBED 
BY  GREAT  AUTHORITIES. 

He  teas  mean,  narrow,  and  ivanting  in  moral  courage. 

u  The  wisest,  brightest,  meanest  of  mankind. "  (Pope,  Essay 
on  Man.) 

"  A  serenity  bordering  on  meanness  .  .  .  his  fault  was  mean- 
ness of  spirit.  The  mind  of  Waller  coincided  with  that  of 
Bacon  ...  a  narrowness  to  the  loivest  degree,  an  abjectness  and 
ivant  of  courage  to  support  him  in  any  virtuous  undertaking. 
...  Sir  Anthony  Weldon  ...  is  likely  enough  to  have  exag- 
gerated the  meanness  of  Bacon. "     (Macaulay. ) 

"  He  tvas  anything  rather  than  mean. " 

"  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  generous,  open-hearted,  affec- 
tionate, peculiarly  sensitive  to  kindness,  and  equally  forgetful  of 
injuries.    The  epithet  of  '  great,7  which  has  been  so  ungrudgingly 
accorded  to  him  as  a  writer,  might,  without  any  singular  impro- 
priety, be  applied  to  him  as  a  man. "    (Prof.  Fowler's  Bacon,  p.  28. ) 
"  Greatness  he  could  not  want."     (Ben  Jonson,  Discoveries.) 
"  A  man  splendid  in  his  expenses."     (Sir  Tobie  Matthew.) 
"  Weighted  by  the  magnificence  of  his  character."    (Dr.  Ab- 
bott's introduction  to  Bacon's  Essays.) 


54  FBANCIS  BACON 

Servile — A  flatterer,  fawning  on  the  great— A  courtier  by  choice. 

"  Fearful  to  a  fault  of  offending  the  powerful,  ...  his  sup- 
plications almost  servile.  ...  A  servile  advocate,  that  he  might 
he  a  corrupt  judge.  ...  He  excused  himself  in  terms  which 
.  .  .  must  be  considered  as  shamefully  servile. "     (Hacaulay.) 

"  Mixed  up  with  servile  entreaties  for  place. "  (Sortaine,  Life 
of  Lord  Bacon,  40,  etc.  Followed  by  Lord  Campbell,  pp.  3, 
12,  26,  etc.) 

"  For  his  want  of  leisure  he  was  himself  to  blame,  because  he 
deliberately  preferred  the  life  of  a  courtier  and  a  politician  to 
tbe  life  of  a  seeker  after  truth."  (Abbott,  Francis  Bacon,  413. 
See  infra.) 

Neither  servile  nor  a  flatterer. 

"  He  must  have  been  most  of  alia  stranger  amid  the  alien  ser- 
vility imposed  upon  him  by  the  court  of  James  I.  ...  He  was 
altogether  too  vast  and  grand  for  an  easy  flatterer."  (Dr.  Ab- 
bott, introduction  to  the  Essays.) 

Bacon  seems  to  have  been  several  times  in  disgrace  with  his 
relations  and  others  for  not  sufficiently  cultivating  the  courtly  sub- 
servience which  was  required  in  those  days.  See  his  letter  to 
his  uncle  and  aunt,  Lord  and  Lady  Burghley,  who  have 
reproached  him  with  this.  (Spedding,  L.  L.  i.  12-59,  and  Sped- 
ding's  Evenings  with  a  Reviewer,  i.  69.) 

Intriguing,   selfish,    money-loving  —  Hunting  after  place    and 

power  from  vanity  and  ambition. 

"  The  boldest  and  most  useful  of  innovators  .  .  .  the  most  obsti- 
nate champion  of  the  foulest  abuses  ...  a  heart  set  on  things 
which  no  man  ought  to  suffer  to  be  necessary  to  his  happiness, 
on, things  which  can  be  obtained  only  by  the  sacrifice  of  integ- 
rity and  honour.  .  .  .  All  availed  him  nothing,  while  some  quib- 
bling special  pleader  was  promoted  before  him  to  the  bench, 
while  some  heavy  country  gentleman  took  precedence  of  him, 
by  virtue  of  a  purchased  coronet,  .  .  .  could  obtain  a  more  cor- 
dial salute  from  Buckingham;  or  while  some  buffoon,  versed  in  all 
the  latest  scandal  of  the  court,  could  draw  a  louder  laugh  from 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  55 

James. "    (Macaulay,  336,  317,  429;  Campbell,  pp.  3,  5,  25,  etc.; 
Sortaine,  93,  etc.) 

Generous,  open-hearted  —  Regardless  of  money,  place  or  pomp, 

for  their  own  sakes. 

11 1  will  hereafter  write  to  your  lordship  what  I  think  of  that 
supply;  to  the  end  that  you  may,  as  you  have  begun,  to  your 
great  honour,  despise  money  where  it  crosseth  reason  of  state  or 
virtue. "     (Francis  Bacon  to  Villiers,  Nov.  29,  1616.)  i 

"  Money  is  like  muck  —  not  good  except  it  be  spread. "  (Essay 
of  Seditions.    See  Essays,  Riches,  Expense,  etc.) 

"  To  his  easy  liberality  in  the  spending,  was  added  a  careless- 
ness in  the  keeping,  which  would  be  hardly  credible, "  etc.  (See 
Spedding,  L.  L.  vii.  563,  etc.) 

Basil  Montagu,  Prof.  Fowler,  Hepworth  Dixon,  Storr,  all 
bear  the  same  witness. 

"  He  was  most  desirous  to  obtain  a  provision  which  might 
enable  him  to  devote  himself  to  literature  aud  politics.  .  .  .  His 
wishes  were  moderate."    (Maeaulay,  298.) 

He  strove  for  money,  position,  etc.,  that  by  their  means  he 
might  advance  learning,  science,  and  religion.  (Anthony  Bacon's 
correspondence.  Dr.  Rawley,  Basil  Montagu,  Spedding,  Fowler, 
Craik,  Abbott,  Wigston,  etc.) 

"  Having  all  the  thoughts  of  that  large  heart  of  his  set  upon 
adorning  the  age  in  which  he  lives,  and  benefiting,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, the  whole  human  race."  (Sir  T.  Matthew's  preface  to  an 
Italian  translation  of  the  Essays.) 

He  was  successful  in  his  endeavours  after  loealth  and  place. 

"  During  a  long  course  of  years  Bacon's  unworthy  ambition 
was  crowned  with  success.  ...  He  was  elated  if  not  intoxicated 
by  greatness."  (Macaulay,  336,  347,  etc.)  "Bacon  deliber- 
ately sat  down  to  build  his  fortunes  .  .  .  and,  as  we  shall  see, 
succeeded."  The  truth  is,  admiration  for  place  and  power  had 
dazzled  his  intellect  and  confounded  his  judgment.  (Dr.  Ab- 
bott's introduction  to  Essays.) 

1  Compare  Coriolanus,  ii.  3.    Money  or  wealth  "  the  much  of  the  world." 


50  FRANCIS  BACON 

He  was  singularly  unsuccessful  —  There  must  have  been  some 
unexplained  cause  which  kept  him  back. 

"  He  stood  long  at  a  stay  in  the  days  of  his  mistress  Eliza- 
beth." (Dr.  Rawley,  Life.)  "  But  though  Bacon's  reputation 
rose,  his  fortunes  were  still  depressed.  He  was  still  in  great 
pecuniary  difficulties. "  (Macaulay,  309. )  "Countenance,  en- 
courage and  advance  men  in  all  kinds,  degrees  and  professions, 
for  in  the  time  of  the  Cecils,  the  father  and  the  son,  able  men 
were,  by  design,  and  of  purpose,  suppressed."  (Letter  from 
Bacon  to  Villiers ;  see,  also,  Dr.  Church's  Bacon,  pp.  33,  58-9, 
100.) 

He  married  for  money. 

"  He  made  a  bold  attempt  to  restore  his  position  by  matri- 
mony. Instead  of  offering  incense  to  Venus  he  was  considering 
a  scheme  to  make  his  pot  boil."  (Campbell,  Bacon,  p.  40.) 
"  He  had  some  thoughts  of  making  his  fortune  by  marriage.  .  .  . 
Bacon  was  disposed  to  overlook  her  faults  for  the  sake  of  her 
ample  fortune. "  (Macaulay,  310.)  "  Just  at  this  period  he  was 
offering  his  heart  to  the  daughter  of  a  rich  alderman. "  (Devey's 
ed.  of  Essays,  introduction,  xix.) 

He  married  a  lady  on  whom  he  settled  double  the  amount  of  her 

doivry. 

(See  Carleton  to  Chamberlain,  May  11,  1606 ;  Spedding's  L. 
L.  i.  8 ;  Hepworth  Dixon's  Story  of  Bacon's  Life,  pp.  218,  219, 
and  same  in  Personal  Life ;  Bacon's  Will,  Dec.  19th,  1624.) 

His  patient,  conciliating,  pliable   nature    blamed  as  weakness 
and  servility. 

11  He  bore  with  a  patience  and  serenity  which,  we  fear,  bor- 
dered on  meanness,  the  morose  humours  of  his  uncle  .  .  .  the 
sneering  reflections  .  .  .  cast  on  him  "  [as  a  "  speculative  " 
man].     (Macaulay,  p.  301.) 

"  There  was  in  Bacon  an  invariable  pliancy,  in  the  presence  of 
great  persons,  which  disqualified  him  for  the  task  of  giving  wise 
and  effectual  counsel.  In  part  this  obsequiousness  arose  from  his 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  57 

mental  and  moral  constitution,  in  part  it  was  a  habit  deliberately 
adopted,  as  one  among  many  means  by  which  a  man  may  make  his 
way  in  the  world  .  .  .  that  he  must  'avoid  repulse.'  "  (Abbott, 
Life  of  Bacon,  p.  2L.  Compare  the  passage  quoted  before  on 
Bacon  as  "  no  flatterer  "  from  the  same  author's  introduction  to 
the  Essays.) 

His  patient,  conciliating,  pliable  nature  praised  as  excellent  and, 

admirable. 

11  A  man  most  sweet  in  his  conversation  and  ways;  an  enemy 
to  no  man. "    (Sir  Tobie  Matthew's  character  of  Bacon.) 

"  He  was  no  dashing  man,  .  .  .  but  ever  a  countenancer  and 
fosterer  of  other  men's  parts.  ...  He  contemned  no  man's 
observations,  but  would  light  his  candle  at  every  man's  torch. " 
(Dr.  Rawley's  character  of  Bacon.) 

"  Retiring,  nervous,  sensitive,  unconventional,  modest, "  etc. 
(Spedding,  L.  L.  vii.  567-8.) 

"  The  habit  of  self-assertion  was  not  at  his  command.  .  .  . 
When  a  man  who  is  naturally  modest  attempts  to  put  on  the  air 
of  audacity,  he  only  makes  himself  offensive.  The  pliancy  or 
submissive  attitude  toward  his  official  superiors  ...  is  generally 
blamed  in  him  as  an  unworthy  condescension,  .  .  .  but  I  am  not 
so  sure  that  he  would  have  acknowledged  it  as  a  fault.  As  the 
world  was  in  Bacon's  time,  and  as  it  still  is,  if  you  want  a  man 
to  help  you  in  your  work,  you  must  beware  of  affronting  him, 
and  must  show  him  the  respect  to  which  he  thinks  himself 
entitled."    (26.368-9.) 

His  faith  in  his  own  cause,  his  self-confidence,  and  his  sanguine, 
hopeful  spirit,  blamed  as  arrogance  and  pride. 

"  To  an  application  to  his  uncle,  Lord  Burleigh,  to  entitle  him 
to  come  within  bars, ""  he  received  a  churlish  answer;  the  old 
Lord  taking  the  opportunity  to  read  Francis  a  sharp  lecture 
on  his  '  arrogancy  and  over weening. '  "  (Campbell,  15;  and 
Macaulay,  301.) 

Campbell,  throughout  his  "  Life  of  Bacon, "  clings  to  the  "  evil 
opinion  of  them  that  do  misaffect  "  Bacon,  and  treats  his  natural 


58  FRANCIS  BACON 

gentleness  as  mere  kyprocrisy.  "  A  touch  of  vanity,  even,  is  to 
be  found  in  this  composition— a  quality  he  hardly  ever- betrays 
elsewhere,  althoughhebad  an  inward  consciousness  of  hisextraor- 
dinary  powers.  Boasting  of  his  great  influence,  etc.,  ...  in 
three  days  Bacon  was  obliged  hypocritically  to  write, "  etc.  .  .  . 
"  The  following  is  Bacon's  boastful  account, "  etc.  (Campbell's 
Bacon,  pp.  Ill,  152.) 

"  Bacon's  overweening  self-confidence,"  etc.  (Storr,  Essays, 
introd.) 

His  self-confidence,  fixed  purposes,  and  hopeful  spirit  praised. 

" 1  find  that  such  persons  as  are  of  nature  bashful  as  myself 
is  .  .  .  are  often  mistaken  for  proud.  But  I  know  well  .  .  .  tbat 
arrogancy  and  overweening  is  so  far  from  my  nature,  as  if  I 
think  well  of  myself  in  anything,  it  is  this,  that  I  am  free  from 
that  vice. "    (Reply  by  F.  B.  to  Ld.  B.'s  letter.) 

"  A  hopeful,  sensitive,  bashful,  amiable  boy  .  .  .  glowing  with 
noble  aspirations."     (Spedding,  L.  L.  i.  6.) 

"  Even  as  a  philosopher  ...  he  thought  that  he  had  struck  Into 
the  right  path  by  accident,  and  that  his  merit  lay  in  endeavouring 
to  keep  in  it.  The  qualities  for  which  he  gave  himself  credit  were 
only  patience  and  faith,  and  love  of  truth,  carrying  with  it  con- 
fidence in  the  power  of  truth.  .  .  .  Bacon  had  by  nature  a  large 
faculty  of  hope ;  but  it  was  hope  from  things  that  lay  out  of  and 
beyond  himself;  ...  he  attached  little  importance  to  himself  ex- 
cept as  an  instrument  for  their  accomplishment.  No  correct 
notion  can  be  formed  of  Bacon's  character  till  this  suspicion  of 
self-conceit  is  scattered  to  the  winds. "  (Abbott,  introduction 
to  Essays,  xxxvi.)     {lb.  vii.  568.) 

Averse  to  details. 

"A  nature  indifferent  to  details."  (Abbott,  int.  to  Essays, 
xix.) 

"  Lord  Macaulay  speaks  in  admiration  of  the  versatility  of 
Bacon's  mind  as  equally  well  adapted  for  exploring  the  heights 
of  philosophy,  or  for  the  minute  inspection  of  the  pettiest  detail. 
But  he  has  been  imposed  upon  by  Bacon's  parade  of  detail,"1  etc. 
{lb.  lxxsvii.) 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  59 

Careful  about  details. 

"  The  secret  of  Bacon's  proficiency  was  that,  in  the  smallest 
matters,  no  less  than  in  the  greatest,  he  took  a  great  deal  of  pains. " 
(Spedding,  Works,  vii.  197.)  See  the  evidence  of  this  in  Bacon's 
Promus  of  Formularies  and  Elegancies,  his  collections  of  Prov- 
erbs and  Quotations,  the  Sylva  Syl varum,  the  History  of  Winds, 
and  other  collections  of  minute  particulars  and  jottings.  See, 
also,  an  excellent  page  in  Macaulay's  Essay,  417. 

Without  elevation  of  sentiment— His  philosophy  low  and  utili- 
tarian. 

"  The  moral  qualities  of  Bacon  were  not  of  a  high  order.  We 
do  not  say  that  he  was  a  bad  man;  ...  his  faults  were  .  .  . 
coldness  of  heart,  and  meanuess  of  spirit.  He  seems  to  have 
been  incapable  of  feeling  strong  affection,  of  facing  great  dan- 
gers, of  making  great  sacrifices.  His  desires  were  set  on  things 
below, "  etc.     (Macaulay,  pp.  320-327,  etc.) 

"  There  is  nothing  that  savours  of  the  divine  in  Bacon's 
philosophy;  ...  it  began  in  observation,  and  ending  in  arts; 
...  a  low  object."    (See  lb.  373-396.) 

Lofty  in  sentiment —  Truly  great. 

"Greatness  he  could  not  want."  (Ben  Jonsr>n,  Bominus 
Verulamius.) 

"  That  mind  lofty  and  discursive  ...  as  a  politician  no  less 
grand  and  lofty  in  theory,  than  as  a  philosopher."  (Dr.  Abbott, 
int.  to  Essays.) 

"  In  his  magnificent  day-dreams  there  was  nothing  wild;  .  .  . 
he  loved  to  picture  to  himself  the  world.  .  .  .  Cowley,  in  one  of 
his  finest  poems,  compared  Bacon  to  Moses  standing  on  Mount 
Pisgah,  .  .  .  the  great  lawgiver  looking  round  from  his  lonely 
elevation  on  an  infinite  expanse,"  etc.     (Macaulay,  423,  429.) 

Commenting  on  Bacon's  observation  that  "  assuredly  the  very 
contemplation  of  things  ...  is  more  worthy  than  the  fruits  of 
inventions,"  etc.  (Nov.  Org.  i.  129),  Spedding  says,  in  a  foot- 
note to  the  Latin  edition:  "  This  is  one  of  the  passages  which 
sh')w  how  far  Bacon  was  from  what  is  now  called  a  utili- 
tarian."   (Spedding's  Works,  i.  222,) 


60  FRANCIS  BACON 

His  statements  about  himself  not  to  be  credited. 

"  We  have  this  account  only  from  himself,  and  it  is  to  be  re- 
garded with  great  suspicion."    (Campbell,  p.  53.) 

His  statements,  even  against  himself,  always  candid  and  ac- 
curate. 

"  Never  was  a  man  franker  in  committing  to  paper  his  defects 
and  infirmities."  (Abbott,  Francis  Bacon,  p.  317.)  Dr.  Abbott 
enters  at  some  length  into  Bacon's  "  habit  of  thinking  with  a 
pen  in  his  hand,"  and  reviews  the  Essays  as  being  document- 
ary evidence  of  Bacon's  own  mental  experiences.  "  Perhaps  no 
man  ever  made  such  a  confidant  of  paper  as  he  did,"  and,  note, 
he  compares  him  to  Montaigne.     (See  Essays,  pp.  xvii-xxi.) 

He  was  cold,  calculating,  without  any  strong  affections  or  feel- 
ings. 

"  His  fault  .  .  .  coldness  of  heart  .  .  .  not  malignant,  but 
wanted  warmth  of  affection  and  elevation  of  sentiment." 
(Macaulay,  p.  321.)  "  It  was  as  the  ministers  or  tools  of  science 
that  Bacon  regarded  his  friends  ;  ...  it  was  an  affection  of  a 
subdued  kind,  kept  well  under  control,  and  duly  subordinated 
to  the  interests  of  the  Kingdom  of  Man.  Bacon  could  not 
easily  love  friends  or  hate  enemies,  though  he  himself  was  loved 
by  many  of  his  inferiors  with  the  true  love  of  friendship.  .  .  .  He 
liked  almost  everybody  with  whom  he  was  brought  into  close 
intercourse,  .  .  .  but  lie  loved  and  could  love  no  one. "  (Abbott's 
int.  to  Essays,  xxviii.)  "Instinct  and  emotion  were  in  him 
unduly  subordinated  to  reason.  ...  No  one  of  ordinary  moral 
instinct  would  accept  Bacon's  oft-repeated  precept  of  Bias  — 
'  Love  as  if  you  were  sometime  to  hate,  and  hate  as  if  you  were 
sometime  to  love.'  "    (Abbott's  Francis  Bacon,  326.) 

Affectionate — A  firm  friend — Peculiarly  sensitive  to  kindnesses. 

"  But  little  do  men  perceive  what  solitude  is,  and  how  far  it 
extendeth ;  for  a  crowd  is  not  company,  and  faces  are  but  a 
gallery  of  pictures,  and  talk  but  a  tinkling  cymbal  where  there 
is  no  love;  ...  it  is  a  mere  and  miserable  solitude  to  want  true 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  61 

friends,  without  which  the  world  is  but  a  wilderness.  .  .  .  Who- 
soever, in  the  frame  of  his  nature  and  affections,  is  unfit  for 
friendship,  he  taketh  it  of  the  beast,  and  not  from  humanity. 
...  It  was  a  sparing  speech  of  the  ancients  to  say  that  a  friend 
is  another  himself,  for  that  a  friend  is  far  more  than  himself, "  etc. 
(Bacon's  Ess.  of  Frieudship.)  Bacon  places  the  love  of  friends, 
or  true  sympathy  of  souls,  far  above  the  mere  love  or  passion  of 
"  the  Ancient  Cupid. "  The  "  more  close  sympathy  of  the  younger 
Cupid"  .  .  .  depends  upon  deeper,  more  necessitating  and  more 
uncontrollable  principles,  as  if  they  proceeded  from  the  Ancient 
Cupid,  on  whom  all  exquisite  sympathies  depend."  (Wisdom  of 
the  Ancient  Cupid.)  "  A  very  sensitive  man,  who  felt  acutely 
both  kindness  and  unkindness."    (Spedding,  L.  L.  vii.  567.) 

A  faithless,  time-serving  friend —  Ungrateful.    (Chiefly  regard- 
ing Essex.) 

"  The  person  on  whom,  during  the  decline  of  [Essex's]  influ- 
ence, he  chiefly  depended,  to  whom  he  confided  his  perplexities, 
.  .  .  whose  intercession  he  employed,  was  his  friend  Bacon. 
.  .  .  This  friend,  so  loved,  so  trusted,  bore  a  principal  part  in 
ruining  the  Earl's  fortunes,  in  shedding  his  blood,  and  in  black- 
ening his  memory.  But  let  us  be  just  to  Bacon;  .  .  .  to  the  last 
he  had  no  wish  to  injure  Essex.  Nay,  we  believe  that  he  sin- 
cerely exerted  himself  to  save  Essex,  as  long  as  he  thought  that 
he  could  serve  Essex  without  injuring  himself,"  etc.  (Macau- 
lay,  p.  311.)  This  miserable  view,  exhibiting  Francis  Bacon  as 
an  utterly  selfish  creature,  is  repeated  by  Campbell  and  others. 

"  No  one  who  reads  his  anxious  letters  about  preferment  and' 
the  Queen's  favour,  about  his  disappointed  hopes,  about  his  strait- 
ened means  and  distress  for  money,  .  .  .  can  doubt  that  the 
question  was  between  his  own  prospects  and  his  friend;  and 
that  to  his  own  interest  he  sacrificed  his  friend  and  his  own 
honour."     (Dr.  Church,  Bacon,  p.  57.) 

See  also  Dr.  Abbott's  Francis  Bacon,  p.  277,  of  Yelverton's 
trial:  "  Bacon's  behaviour  was  peculiarly  cold-blooded  and  un- 
grateful. " 


G2  FRANCIS  BACON 

"  A  friend  unalterable  to  his  friends."     (Sir  Tobie  Matthew's 

character  of  Bacon.) 

No  man  knew  better,  or  felt  more  deeply,  the  duties  of  friend- 
ship.    (Basil  Montagu.) 

See  also  the  whole  subject  argued  in  Spedding's  Evenings  with 
a  Reviewer,  vol.  i.,  and  Letters  and  Life,  i.  104-100,  250-254, 
295,  370-375;  ii.  69-105,  123-102,  105,  367. 

"  The  fictitious  biography  paints  him  as  bound  by  the  sacred 
ties  of  gratitude  and  affection  to  the  Earl  of  Essex,  who,  after 
striving,  in  the  most  disinterested  spirit,  to  procure  for  him  a 
great  office  and  a  wealthy  wife,  had,  failing  in  these  efforts,  gen- 
erously bestowed  upon  him  Twickenham  Park;  as  helping  and 
advising  that  Earl,  so  long  ashe  could  do  it  safely  and  with 
profit,  but  as  going  over  to  his  enemies  when  the  hour  of  danger 
came;  and  when  the  Earl's  rash  enterprise  gave  those  enemies  a 
legal  advantage  over  him,  as  straining  his  utmost  skill  as  an 
advocate  and  a  writer,  to  take  away  the  life  and  to  damn  the 
memory  of  a  noble  and  confiding  friend.  A  plain  story  of  the 
times  will  show  that  the  connexion  of  Bacon  with  Essex  was 
one  of  politics  and  business;  that  this  connexion  was  in  the  high- 
est degree  injurious  to  Bacon  and  to  Bacon's  family;  that  Essex 
caused  him  to  lose  for  fourteen  years  the  post  of  Solicitor;  that 
Twickenham  Park  had  never  been  the  property  of  Essex,  and 
was  not  given  by  him  to  Bacon;  that  the  connexion  between 
them  ceased  with  Essex's  own  acts;  .  -.' .  that '  the  rash  enterprise' 
for  which  Essex  suffered  on  the  block  was  treason  of  so  black  a 
shade,  —  so  odious  in  the  conception,  so  revolting  in  the  details, 
as  to  arm  against  him  every  honest  man;  .  .  .  that,  while  Essex 
'was  yet  free  from  overt  and  unpardonable  crimes,  Bacon  went 
beyond  the  extremest  bounds  of  chivalry  to  save  him.  That  in 
acting  against  Essex,  when  Essex  had  stained  his  hands  with 
blood  and  his  soul  with  treason,  Bacon  did  no  more  than  he  was 
bound  to  do  as  a  public  man;  that,  though  he  could  not  save 
the  guilty  chief,  he  strove,  and  not  in  vain,  to  rescue  from  the 
gallows  his  misled  accomplices;  finally,  that  to  the  generous 
suppressions  of  the  State  Paper,  which  he  drew  up  under  her 
Majesty's  command,  was  due  the  fact  that  Essex's  name  should 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  63 

be  pronounced  witnout  a  curse,  and  that  his  son  could  one  day 
bo  restored  in  blood."  (Hepworth  Dixon,  Story,  i.  6.  See 
the  same  book,  pp.  46-18G.) 

Unloved  as  he  ivas  unloving,  he  had  but  few  friends  and  ivas 
little  reverenced. 

This  is  the  impression  conveyed  by  most  of  Bacon's  anti- 
pathetic biographers  —  a  view  of  his  character  which  Dr.  Abbott 
tries  hard  to  reconcile  with  "  the  spirit  of  genuine  affection  which 
breathes  "  through  the  records  ofhisfriends  and  contemporaries, 
and,  we  may  add,  through  all  the  letters  which  refer  to  him, 
written  to  him  or  of  him,  where  his  personal  relations  with  inti- 
mate friends  and  acquaintances  are  touched  upon.  (See  infra.)  It 
is  difficult,  sometimes,  to  decide  whether  to  place  the  criticisms 
upon  Bacon's  character  on  the  side  of  the  goats  or  of  the  sheep. 
They  are  often  so  self-contradictory  and  neutralising  that  the 
writers  appear  to  be  writing  against  their  own  convictions  — 
rejecting  the  evidence  patent  and  unchallenged  of  eye-witnesses, 
in  favour  of  theories  and  personal  antipathies  found  long  after 
their  great  subject  had  passedaway.  As  to  forming  a  judgment 
upon  detached  expressions,  notes  or  sentiments,  culled  from 
Bacon's  works  with  a  special  purpose,  and  with  special  glosses 
attached,  to  suit  certain  theories,  we  protest  that  no  author's  pri- 
vate character  can  be  rightly  so  judged ;  and  with  regard  to 
Bacon,  in  particular,  passages  to  prove  the  exact  opposite  to 
everything  so  advanced  could  be  produced. 

"All  who  were  good  and  great  loved  and  honoured  him."    (John 

Aubrey.) 

"  My  conceit  of  his  person  was  never  increased  towards  him  by 
his  place  or  honours;  but  I  have  and  do  reverence  him  for  the 
greatness  that  was  only  proper  to  himself,  in  that  he  seemed  to 
me  ever,  by  his  work,  one  of  the  greatest  of  men,  and  most 
worthy  of  admiration,  that  hath  been  in  many  ages.  In  his 
adversity  I  ever  prayed  God  would  give  him  strength,  for  great- 
ness he  could  not  want.  Neither  could  I  condole  a  word  or 
syllable  for  him,  as  knowing  no  accident  can  happen  to  virtue, 


64  FRANCIS  BACON 

but  rather  help  to  make  it  manifest. "  (Ben  Jonson,  Dominus 
Verulamius.) 

The  same  is  echoed  by  Dr.  Rawley,  Osborne,  Peter  Boener, 
and  Sir  Tobie  Matthew,  all  personal  friends.  (See  Spedding, 
L.  L.  vii.  576;  Hepworth  Dixon,  Story,  482,  etc.) 

The  following  rather  grinding  version  is  from  a  usually  hostile 
critic  of  Francis  Bacon:  "Bacon's  better  traits  have  to  be  in- 
ferred from  the  brief  testimony  of  one  or  two  of  his  most 
intimate  friends,  whose  disinterested  eulogies,  after  his  disgrace 
and  death,  prove  that,  to  them,  at  least,  he  seemed  not  only 
genial,  kindly,  and  affectionate,  but  also  a  bright  example  of 
lofty  virtue.  There  seems  something  in  the  nature  of  a  problem 
in  the  contradiction  between  Bacon  as  he  appeared  to  his 
friends,  and  Bacon  as  he  appears  to  us.  *  We  have  noted 
already  the  spirit  of  genuine  affection  which  breathes  through 
the  short  memoir  of  him  written  by  his  chaplain,  Rawley.  His 
domestic  apothecary  and  secretary,  Peter  Boener,  expresses  a 
wish  that  a  statue  of  him  may  be  erected,  not  for  his  learning 
and  researches,  but  'as  a  memorable  example  to  all  of  virtue, 
kindness,  peacefulness,  and  patience.'  Ben  Jonson  speaks  in  the 
same  strain  of  his  'virtue.'  .  .  .  To  the  same  effect  writes  Sir  Tobie 
Matthew,  one  of  his  most  intimate  friends,  who  was  in  the  secret 
of  his  philosophic  projects,  and  to  whom  he  dedicated  his 
Essay  on  Friendship.  '  It  is  not  his  greatness  that  I  admire, 
but  his  virtue.  It  is  not  the  favours  that  I  have  received  of 
him  that  have  enthralled  and  enchained  my  heart,  but  his 
whole  life  and  character;  which  are  such  that,  if  he  were  of  an 
inferior  condition,  I  could  not  honour  him  the  less,  and  if  he 
were  mine  enemy,  I  could  not  the  less  love,  and  endeavour  to 
serve  him.'  Will  all  his  faults  .  .  .  neither  his  formal  works  nor 
his  private  letters  convey  more  than  a  fraction  of  the  singular^ 
charm  with  which  his  suavity  of  manner  and  gracious  dignity 
fascinated  his  contemporaries  and  riveted  the  affections  of  some 

l  This  must  depend  upon  who  the  "  us,"  the  modern  reporter  and  critic, 
may  be.  The  "us"  at  present  writing  sees  nothing  inharmonious  in  the  char- 
acter of  Bacon,  but  "we"  do  perceive  that,  as  a  rule,  very  little  is  known  of  his 
real  life  and  character,  and  that  accounts  of  him  have  been  intentionally  "dis- 
guised and  veiled." 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  65 

whom  it  must  have  been  hardest  to  deceive.  .  .  .  His  enthusiasm 
for  truth  in  Nature  ennobled  his  intercourse  with  his  associates, 
and  placed  them  on  a  footing  of  such  cordial  fellowship  with 
his  brother  workers  that  he  really  loved  them.  At  least  it  is 
certain  that  he  made  them  love  him. "  (Abbott,  Francis  Bacon, 
319,  33,  etc.) 

His  cruelty  —  Want  of  feeling  for  animals  —  Vivisection. 

u  He  seems  to  have  no  liking  for  birds  or  beasts,  wild  or  tame. 
The  torture  of  a  long-billed  fowl  by  a  toaggish  Christian,  who 
called  down  on  himself  the  resentment  of  the  Turks  by  his 
cruelty,  inspires  him  with  no  deeper  feeling  than  amuse- 
ment." (See  the  passage  quoted  below,  of  which  this  is  the  ex- 
position, in  the  introduction  to  Dr.  Abbott's  edition  of  the  Es- 
says.) 

"  The  restrictions  on  aviaries  have  been  treated  as  an  indication 
that  Bacon  had  a  strong  love  for  animals;  but  it  would  seem  he 
did  not  object  to  cages,  provided  the  ivant  of  'nestling'  and 
'foulness1  do  not  obtrude  themselves  on  the  spectator."  (Abbott, 
notes  to  Ess.  of  Gardens.) 

"  While  condemning  vivisection  of  men,  he  assumes  its  law- 
fulness when  applied  to  animals,  without  restriction  or  justifica- 
tion."   (Abbott,  notes  to  Ess.  of  Goodness.) 

Macaulay,  Campbell,  and  others,  charge  Bacon  with  aiding 
and  abetting  the  torturing  of  Peacham. 

His  kindness  and  tenderness  of  heart — Love  of  animals,  flow- 
ers—  Vivisection. 

Bacon  is  showing  that  "  The  inclination  to  goodness  is  im- 
printed deeply  in  the  nature  of  man;  insomuch  that,  if  it  issue  not 
towards  men,  it  will  take  unto  other  living  creatures:  as  it  is 
seen  in  the'Turks,  a  cruel  people,  who  nevertheless  are  kind  to 
beasts,  and  give  alms  to  dogs  and  birds;  insomuch,  as  Bus- 
bechius  reporteth,  a  Christian  boy  in  Constantinople  had  like 
to  have  been  stoned  for  gagging,  in  a  waggishness,  a  long-billed 
fowl."    (Essay  of  Goodness  and  Goodness  of  Nature.) 

"  I  love  the  birds  as  the  French  king  doth. "  (Spedding,  L.  L. 
v.  444.    Bacon's  Notes.) 


66  FRANCIS  BACON 

"  In  his  face  a  thought  for  the  bird  on  the  tree,  the  insect  on 
the  stream,  ...  he  pursued  his  studies,  sniffing  at  a  flower  or 
listening  to  a  bird.  In  the  bright  country  air,  among  his  books, 
fish,  flowers,  collections,  and  experiments,  with  his  horse,  his 
dog,  Bacon  slowly  regained  some  part  of  bis  lost  health." 

"  Sure,  yet  subtle,  were  the  tests  by  wbich  Bacon  judged  of 
men.  Seeing  Winwood  strike  a  dog  for  having  leaped  upon  a 
stool,  he  very  justly  set  him  down  as  of  ungentle  nature.  '  Every 
gentleman/ he  said  loudly,  'loves  a  dog.'"  (H.  Dixon,  Story, 
pp.  23,  29,  331.) 

"  And  now,"  in  Bacon's  account,  "  we  see  the  lover  of  birds 
and  fowls: 

"To  the  washerwoman  for  sending  after  the  crane  that  flew  into  the  Thames, 
five  shillings. 

"  The  Lord  Chancellor  was  as  fond  of  birds  as  of  dress,  and 
he  built  in  tbe  gardens  of  York  House  a  magnificent  aviary  at  a 
cost  of  three  hundred  pounds.  From  this  aviary  tbe  poor  crane 
had  tlown  into  the  Thames,"  etc.     (lb.  p.  355.) 

"  Then,  again,  the  accounts  make  visible,  as  he  lived  in  the 
flesh,  the  tender  and  compassionate  man."    (lb.  355-357.) 

"  He  was  not  inhuman  or  tyrannical."     (Macaulay,  320.) 

"  For  aviaries,  I  like  them  not,  except  they  be  of  that  largeness 
as  they  may  be  turfed,  anil  have  living  plants  and  bushes  set  in 
them,  that  the  birds  may  have  more  scope  and  natural  nestling, 
and  that  no  foulness  appear  on  the  floor  of  the  aviary. "  (Ess.  of 
Gardens.) 

In  the  New  Atlantis  the  Father  of  Solomon's  House  (who  had 
"  an  aspect  as  though  he  pitied  men11)  is  explaining  the  "  prepa- 
rations and  instruments"  for  study  and  experiment  at  the 
"  House. "  "  We  have, "  he  says,  "  also  parks  and  inclosares  for 
all  sorts  of  beasts  and  birds  ;  which  we  use  not  only  for  view  or 
rareness,  but  likewise  for  dissections  and  trials,  that  thereby 
we  may  take  light  what  may  be  wrought  upon  the  body  of  man ; 
wherein  we  find  many  strange  effects :  as  continuing  life  in  them, 
though  divers  parts  which  you  account  vital  be  perished  and 
taken  forth;  resuscitating  of  some  that  seem  dead  in  appear- 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  67 

ance,  and  the  like.  We  try  also  poisons  and  other  medicines 
upon  them,  as  well  as  surgery  and  physic. "    {New  Atlantis. ) 

"  Of  that  other  defect  in  anatomy,  that  it  has  not  been  prac- 
tised on  human  bodies,  what  need  to  speak?  For  it  is  a  thing 
hateful  and  inhuman,  and  has  been  justly  reproved  by  Celsus.  .  .  . 
Wherefore,  that  utility  may  be  considered,  as  toell  as  humanity, 
the  anatomy  of  the  living  subject  .  .  .  may  well  be  discharged  by 
beasts  alive,"  etc.     {Be  Aug.  iv.  2.) 

Montagu,  Spedding,  Abbott,  Anton,  and  others,  show  that 
Bacon  was  in  no  way  responsible  for  the  torturing  of  Peacham. 

He  did  not  study  human  nature. 

"  Human  nature  and  the  human  passions  were  not  sciences  in 
which  Bacon  was  versed.  He  wanted  that  pliancy  and  con- 
genial feeling  which  identifies  itself  with  the  pains  and  pleas- 
ures, the  cares  and  solicitudes,  the  frailties  and  imperfections, 
whims  and  caprices,  sympathies,  passions,  emotions,  and  affec- 
tions which  variously  agitate  and  disturb,  rouse  and  irritate, 
terrify  and  calm,  enrapture,  moderate,  suspend,  and  enchain  all 
the  faculties  of  our  nature,  and  all  the  cravings  and  desires  of 
the  human  heart  —  for  it  is  only  in  the  delineation  of  the  heart 
and  its  affections  that  we  can  expect  to  discover  the  soul  and 
spirit  of  poetry."  (Ess.  by  S.  N.  Carvalho,  in  New  York 
Herald,  Oct.  5,  1874.) 

He  was  a  profound  student  of  human  nature. 

"  So,  then,  the  first  article  of  this  knowledge  is  to  set  down 
sound  and  true  distributions  and  descriptions  of  the  several 
characters  and  tempers  of  men's  natures  and  dispositions, 
specially  having  regard  to  those  differences  which  are  most  rad- 
ical in  being  the  fountains  and  causes  of  the  rest, "  etc.  "  I  can- 
not sufficiently  marvel  that  this  part  of  knowledge,  touching  the 
several  characters  of  natures  and  dispositions,  should  be  omitted 
both  in  morality  and  policy,  considering  it  is  of  so  great  minis- 
tery  and  suppeditation  to  them  both.  {Advancement  of  Learn- 
ing, ii.;  Spedding,  Works,  iii.  pp.  432-473.)  See,  also,  Be  Aug- 
ments, viii.  2  — "  of  procuring  information  of  persons;  their 


68  FRANCIS  BACON 

natures,  their  desires  arid  ends,  their  customs  and  fashions,  their 
helps  and  advantages, "  etc.,  etc.  (Spedding,  Works,  v.  pp.  59-78.) 

See  "  The  Essays,"  which,  Bacon  says,  "  of  all  my  other  works 
have  been  most  current;  for  that,  as  it  seems,  they  come  home 
to  men's  business  and  bosoms."  They  are  all,  more  or  less, 
studies  of  human  nature  and  character. 

See,  also,  "  Experiments  touching  the  impressions  which  the 
passions  of  the  mind  make  upon  the  body."  (Sylva  Sylvarum, 
cent.  viii.  713-722),  and  of  the  effect  of  mind  on  body,  and 
body  on  mind,  etc. 

"  His  style,  ...  for  the  most  part,  describes  men's  minds  as 
well  as  pictures  do  their  bodies:  so  it  did  his  above  all  men 
living.  The  course  of  it  is  vigorous  and  majestical  ...  in 
all  expressing  a  soul  equally  skilled  in  men  and  nature." 

(See  A  Character  of  the  Lord  Bacon — Dr.  Sprat's  History  of  the 
Royal  Society,  part  I.  sec.  16,  pages  35-36.) 

See,  also,  Cowley's  poem  on  Bacon,  addressed  to  the  Royal 
Society,  for  evidence  that  Bacon  painted  human  nature  "  to  the 
life. " 

Wanting  in  boldness  and  independence  of  character. 

11  He  had  no  political  back-bone,  no  power  of  adhering  to  his 
convictions  and  pressing  them  on  unwilling  ears." 

"  Young  or  old,  from  twenty  to  sixty,  he  was  always  the  same; 
.  .  .  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his  career  his  wiser  coun- 
sels were  neglected,  and  he  was  little  better  than  an  instrument 
in  the  hands  of  the  unwise."     (Abbott,  Francis  Bacon,  p.  22.) 

"  He  had  no  moral  courage,  and  no  power  of  self-sacrifice  or 
self-denial."    (Campbell,  Bacon,  p.  220.) 

A  patriot  —  Politically  bold  and  independent  in   matters  which 

he  esteemed  important. 

"  It  is  creditable  alike  to  his  statesmanship  and  to  his  inde- 
pendence of  character  that,  at  a  time  when  all  deviations  from 
the  forms  of  the  prayer-book  were  known  to  bo  distasteful  to 
the  Queen,  Bacon  should  have  pleaded  for  elasticity,  and  that 
'the  contentious  retention  of  custom  is  a  turbulent  thing.'  " 
(Abbott,  Francis  Bacon,  p.  26.) 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  69 

"  Bacon,  who  now  sat  for  Middlesex,  barred  his  own  path  by 
a  speech  in  the  House  of  Commons  .  .  .  upon  subsidies,  which 
he  considered  too  burdensome  for  a  people  overlaid  with  taxes. 
...  It  was,  therefore,  in  entire  good  faith  that  Bacon  protested 
against  the  subsidies,  declaring  that  the  gentlemen  must  sell 
their  plate  and  the  farmers  their  brass  pots  before  this  should 
be  paid.  The  House  was  unanimously  against  him.  .  .  .  But 
'the  speech,  though  made  in  manifest  sincerity,  did  not,  on  that 
account,  conciliate  the  Queen;  and  Bacon's  conscientious  opposi- 
tion  brought  on  him  the  penalty  of  exclusion  from  the  royal  pres- 
ence."    (lb.  p.  35.) 

"  Bacon's  fame  as  a  patriot  was  fixed  in  these  transactions. 
The  breadth  of  his  views,  the  comprehensiveness  of  his  politics, 
the  solidity  of  his  understanding  were  observed  by  his  contempor- 
aries."     (Hep worth  Dixon,  Story,  p.  37.) 

"  The  House  had  not  sat  a  week  .  .  .  before  he  hinted  at  his 
scheme  for  amending  the  whole  body  of  English  law.  .  .  . 
Reform  the  code!  Bacon  tells  a  House  full  of  Queen's  Serjeants 
and  utter  barristers  that  laws  are  made  to  guard  the  rights  of 
the  people,  not  to  feed  the  lawyers.  ...  So  runs  his  speech  .  .  . 
a  noble  thought  ...  a  plan  developed  in  his  maxims  of  the  law 
.  .  .  universally  read  .  .  .  the  Code  Napoleon  is  the  sole  embodi- 
ment of  Bacon's  thought.  Ten  days  later  he  gave  a  check  to 
the  government,  which  brought  down  on  his  head  the  censures 
of  Burghley  and  Puckering,  which  are  said  to  have  represented 
the  personal  anger  of  the  Queen.  .  .  .  Burghley  asked  the  Peers  to 
confer  on  a  grant  of  money  for  the  Queen's  service,  and  Cecil 
reported  to  the  Commons  that  the  Peers  had  decided  for  them 
what  they  were  to  give.  .  .  .  Who  rose  to  warn  the  minister  of 
this  grave  mistake!  .  .  .  Bacon  stood  up.  A  few  clear  words 
declared  that  .  .  .  to  give  was  the  prerogative  of  the  people  — to 
dictate  what  they  should  give  was  not  the  duty  of  the  Peers. " 
{lb.  65-66.) 
Bacon  compared  unfavourably  with  Coke. 

Bacon  as  Attorney-General  "  holding  up  to  posterity  for  ever 
the  contrast  between  his  courtier-like  servility,  and  Coke's 
manly  independence. "    (Abbott,  int.  to  Essays,  lvi.) 


70  FBANCIS  BACON 

Bacon  compared  favourably  with  Coke. 

"  Some  of  the  judges,  and  amongst  them  Egerton,  wished  to 
make  Bacon  Attorney-General,  for  the  great  common-lawyer,  if 
a  giant  in  legal  erudition,  had  the  manners  of  a  bully,  and  the 
spirit  of  a  slave.  In  the  long  succession  of  English  judges,  it  is 
doubtful  whether  any  one  has  left  on  the  bench  so  distinct  an 
impression  of  having  been  a  cold,  harsh,  brawling,  ungenerous 
man  as  Coke,"  etc.,  etc.     (H3p  worth  Dixon,  79-80.) 

"  Wanting  the  warmth  of  heart,  the  large  round  of  sympathies, 
which  enabled  his  rival  at  the  bar  to  see  into  political  questions 
with  the  eye  of  a  poet  and  a  statesman,  Coke  could  only  treat  a 
constituted  court  as  a  thing  of  words,  dates,  readings,  and 
decisions,  not  as  a  living  fact  in  close  relation  to  other  living 
facts,  and  having  in  itself  the  germs  of  growth  and  change. " 
(lb.  231.)    See  Speddicg,  Let.  and  Life,  i.  232. 

An  inequitable  judge — His  judgments  questioned. 

"  Unhappily  he  was  employed  in  perverting  laws  to  the  vilest 
purposes  of  tyranny. "     (Macaulay,  330.) 

"  He  did  worse  than  nothing  in  politics.  He  degraded  him- 
self, he  injured  his  country  and  posterity  by  tarnishing  the  hon- 
ourable traditions  of  the  bench."  (Abbott,  int.  to  Essays, 
xcvi.  And  see,  by  the  same,  "  Francis  Bacon, "  pp.  xx,  xxi,  xxix.) 

An   equitable  judge  —  His  judgments    neither  questioned  nor 
reversed. 

"  His  favourites  took  bribes,  but  his  Lordship  always  gave 
judgment  secundum  cequum  et  bonum.  His  decrees  in  chancery 
stand  flrme;  there  are  fewer  of  his  decrees  reverst  than  of  any 
other  Chancellor."   (John  Aubrey,  Sped.  L.  L.  vii.  557.) 

"  A  most  indefatigable  servant  to  the  King,  and  a  most 
earnest  lover  of  the  public. "   (Sir  Tobie  Matthew.) 

•' Bacon  was  the  first  of  a  new  order  of  public  men.  .  .  .  Bad  men 
kill  offices  and  good  men  found  them."  (See  Hepworth  Dixon's 
Story,  p.  210,  etc.  See  also  Lord  Chief  Justice  Hale  on  the 
Jurisdiction  of  the  Lords'  House,  1716.) 


AXD  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  71 

Apologises  abjectly  to  the  Queen  about  his  speech  on  the  subsidy. 

"  The  young  patriot  condescended  to  make  the  most  abject  apolo- 
gies; .  .  .  he  bemoaned  himself  to  the  Lord  Keeper,  in  a  letter  which 
may  keep  in  countenance  the  most  unmanly  of  the  epistles  which 
Cicero  wrote  during  his  banishment.  The  lesson  was  not  thrown 
away.  Bacon  never  offended  in  the  same  manner  again.'11  (Ma- 
caulay,  Essays,  pp.  303-4.) 

"  The  Queen  was  deeply  incensed,  and  desired  it  to  be  inti- 
mated to  the  delinquent  .  .  .  that  he  must  never  look  to  her 
for  favour  or  promotion.  An  eloquent  eulogist  says  that  '  he 
heard  them  with  the  calmness  of  a  philosopher,'  but  his  answers 
shoiv  that  he  teas  struck  with  repentance  and  remorse,  and  that,  in 
the  hope  of  obtaining  pardon,  he  plainly  intimated  that  he  should 
never  repeat  the  offence.'1''    (Campbell,  p.  23.) 

"  His  compunction  for  his  opposition  to  the  subsidy."    {lb.  24.) 

Does  not  offer  any  apology  to  tlie  Queen  about  his  speech  on  the 
subsidy. 

The  letter  is  extant  and  contains  not  a  word  of  apology. 

"  This  letter  is  a  justification  and  no  apology.11  (Spedding,  L. 
L.  i.  233.) 

"It  is  worthy  of  note  that,  among  the  many  expressions  of 
regret  at  the  royal  displeasure,  there  is  no  record  of  any  apology 
tendered  by  Bacon  for  his  speech."  (Abbott,  int.  to  Essays,  i. 
xxix.) 

See  also  the  polite  but  independent  letter  which  Bacon  wrote 
not  long  afterwards  to  the  Queen  herself,  ignoring  the  obnoxious 
matter  of  the  speech,  and  applying  directly  to  be  employed  in 
the  Queen's  service.     (Spedding,  L.  L.  i.  p.  240.) 

His  speech  charging  tEssex,  and  his  connection  tvith  the  trial, 
condemned  as  perfidious  and  unpardonable. 

"  The  lamentable  truth  must  be  told.  This  friend,  so  loved, 
so  trusted,  bore  a  principal  part  in  ruining  the  Earl7 s  fortunes,  in 
shedding  his  blood,  and  in  blackening  his  character,11  etc.  (Ma- 
caulay's  Essay.) 


72  FRANCIS  BACON 

"  To  deprive  him  of  all  chance  of  mercy  .  .  .  Bacon  com- 
pared him  to  the  Duke  of  Guise.  .  .  .  The  Queen  wished  a 
pamphlet  to  be  written  to  prove  that  Essex  was  properly 
put  to  death,  and  she  selected  Francis  Bacon  to  write  it.  He, 
without  hesitation,  undertook  the  task.  .  .  .  No  honourable  man 
would  purchase  Bacon's  subsequent  elevation  at  the  price  of  being 
the  author  of  this  publication,"  etc.     (Campbell,  p.  64.) 

His  speech  charging  Essex  commended  as  lenient  —  His  con- 
ducting of  the  trial  explained  as  being  obligatory;  an  official 
duty,  etc. 

Basil  Montagu.    Spedding,  ii.  367. 

"  Bacon  closed  the  case  in  an  eloquent  and  memorable  speech. 
His  own  relations  with  the  Earl  of  Essex,  he  said,  were  at  an  end. 
Yet,  in  spite  of  this  avowal,  he  spoke  as  the  Earl's  advocate,  rather 
than  as  the  Queen's ;  charging  him  with  hasty  expressions,  but 
distinctly  freeing  him  from  the  charge  of  disloyalty.  Bacon1  s  speech 
at  York  House  saved  Essex  in  his  fortunes  and  his  fame."  (Hep- 
worth  Dixon's  Story  of  Bacon,  p.  162,  quoting  from  Chamber- 
lain to  Carleton,  July  1-26,  1600,  Record  Office  ;  Confessions  of 
D.  Hayward,  July  11,  1600,  R.  0. ;  Abstract  of  Evidence  against 
Essex,  July  22,  1600 ;  Examination  of  Thos.  Wright,  July  24, 
1600,  R.  O. ;  Moryson,  pt.  ii.  68 ;  Sydney  Papers,  ii.  200 ;  and 
see  Personal  Life.) 

"  Yet,  even  when  it  was  made  thus  sternly  and  just  by  the 
Queen,  the  '  Declaration  of  the  practises  and  treasons  at- 
tempted committed  by  Robt.  Devereux,  late  Earl  of  Essex,  and 
his  complices,'  was,  perhaps,  the  most  gentle  and  moderate  state 
paper  ever  published  in  any  kingdom,"  etc.  (Hepworth  Dixon's 
Story,  pp.  186-7;  see,  also,  Prof.  Fowler's  Bacon,  pp.  8,  9.) 

He  incurred  the  indignation  and  contempt  of  his  contemporaries 
on  account  of  the  part  which  he  took  in  Essex's  trial. 
"  The  base  ingratitude  and  the  slavish  meanness  manifested 
by  Bacon  on  this  occasion  called  forth  the  indignation  of  his 
contemporaries.  .  .  .  For  some  time  after  Essex's  execution, 
Bacon  was  looked  upon  with  aversion,"  etc.  (Campbell,  pp. 
66,  68.) 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  73 

"  It  is  certain  that  his  conduct  excited  great  and  general 
disapprobation."    (Macaulay,  p.  323.) 
"  The  multitude  loudly  condemned  him."     (lb.  325  and  326.) 

No  indignation  was  exhibited  against  him  on  account  of  the 

part  which  he  took  in  Essex's  trial.    He  was  now  honoured  more 

highly  than  before. 

"  That  the  lofty  and  gentle  course  which  Bacon  pursued 
through  these  memorable  events  commanded  the  admiration  of 
all  his  contemporaries,  save  a  faction  of  the  defeated  band,  is  a 
fact  of  which  the  proofs  are  incontestible.  ...  If  he  were  thought 
of  with  aversion,  here  were  the  means,  the  opportunities  for 
condign  revenge.  .  .  .  Did  the  friends  of  Lord  Essex  rise  on  his 
adversaries?  Was  the  .  .  .  stone  flung  at  Bacon?  Just  the 
reverse.    (Hepworth  Dixon,  "  Story,"  p.  183.) 

"  The  world  had  not  been  with  the  rebellious  Earl,  either  in 
his  treason  at  Temple  Bar  or  in  his  suffering  at  Tower  Hill,  and 
those  who  had  struck  down  the  Papist  plot  were  foremost  in  the 
ranks  of  the  new  Parliament.  Four  years  ago  Bacon  had  been 
chosen  to  represent  Ipswich,  and  the  chief  town  of  Suffolk  again 
ratified  its  choice.  But  his  public  acts  now  won  for  him  a  sec- 
ond constituency  in  St.  Albans.  Such  a  double  return,  always 
rare  in  the  House  of  Commons,  was  the  highest  compliment  that 
could  be  paid  to  his  political  life."  (Hep.  Dixon,  "  Story,"  p. 
183.  See  184-5,  of  the  Queen  revising  Bacon's  "  Declaration" 
as  being  too  lenient  to  Essex;  and  notes,  part  iii.  149.) 

Struck  to  the  earth  by  the  discovery  of  his  corruption — Confess- 
ing the  truth  of  the  charges  brought  against  him—  Treated  as  a 
degraded  man. 

"  Overwhelmed  with  shame  and  remorse."  (Macaulay,  p.  353.) 
Lord  Campbell  quotes  passages  from  Bacon's  letter  to  the 
King  and  Buckingham  (where  Bacon  expresses  his  resolution  to 
indulge  in  no  excuses  if  he  has  "  partaken  of  the  abuses  of  the 
times  " )  as  a  clear  negative  pregnant,  admitting  that  the  bribes 
had  been  received.     (See  Campbell's  Bacon,  p.  172.) 

See  also  his  straightforward,  modest  appeal  to  the  King,  repudi- 
ating the  idea  that  he  had  "  the  troubled  fountain  of  a  corrupt 


74  FRANCIS  BACON 

heart  in  a  depraved  habit  of  taking  rewards  to  pervert  justice, 
.  .  .  howsoever  I  be  frail  and  partake  of  the  abuses  of  the  times. " 
Resolving  to  defend  nothing  in  himself,  and  praying  God  that 
"  no  hardness  of  heart  steal  upon  me  under  show  of  more  neatness 
of  conscience  than  is  cause. "    (Montagu,  Spedding,  and  others.) 

Overwhelmed  with  horror  and  surprise  at  the  charges  brought 
against  him — Acknoivledges  carelessness —  Utterly  repudiates 
the  charge  of  bribery —  Never  shows  any  remorse  for  guilt,  but 
even  in  his  u  prayer  "  regrets  that  he  had  toasted  and  misspent 
his  life  in  trying  to  follow  the  profession  of  the  law  and  the 
pursuits  of  a  politician,  for  which  by  nature  he  ivas  least  fit — 
Not  treated  as  degraded,  but  as  one  tvho  would  return  to  power. 

"  The  law  of  nature  teaches  me  to  speak  in  my  own  defence. 
With  respect  to  this  charge  of  bribery  I  am  as  innocent  as  any 
born  upon  St.  Innocents'  day.  I  never  had  bribe  01  reward  in 
my  eye  or  thought  when  pronouncing  sentence  or  order."  (B. 
Montagu,  Works,  v.  549.) 

Montagu,  xii.  457^459;  xvi.  part  ii.  426.  See  also  Spedding's 
Evenings  with  a  Reviewer,  vol.  ii.  Abbott,  Francis  Bacon,  pp. 
306,  320.  Hepworth  Dixon,  "  Story, "  pp.  410-411,  412-447,  466, 
482;  and  "Personal  Life."  Council  Registers,  Dec.  30,  1617; 
Mar.  17-27,  1618;  June  19,  1619;  Jan.  20,  1620.  Bacon  Memo- 
randa, Lambeth  MSS.,  936,  fol.  146. 

Without  a  sense  of  humour — Never  made  a  pun  or  a  quibble. 

11  What  is  said  by  Dr.  Rawley  [see  below]  of  Bacon's  avoid- 
ance of  all  mere  verbal  conceits  is  true,  and  the  fact  merits 
especial  attention  as  notably  discriminating  the  wit  of  Bacon 
from  that  of  every  other  English  writer  eminent  for  that  quality 
in  his  age.  Probably  nothing  resembling  a  pun,  or  any  quib- 
ble of  that  class,  is  to  be  found  in  all  that  he  has  written." 
(Craik,  i.30.) 

"  The  idea  of  robbing  the  world  of  Shakespeare  for  such  a  stiff, 
legal-headed  old  jack-ass  as  Bacon,  is  a  modern  invention  of 
fools. "  (Essay  on  "  The  Humbug  of  Bacon, "  signed  B.  J.  A.,  in 
the  New  York  Herald,  Oct.  5, 1874.)    This  extract  is  given  as  a 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  75 

good  specimen  of  the  kind  of  knowledge  and  criticism  displayed 
by  the  press  articles  of  this  date. 

The  most  prodigious  wit  that  ever  lived  —  Fond  of  quibbles  — 

Could  not  pass  by  a  jest. 

"  His  speech,  when  he  could  pass  by  a  jest,  was  nobly  censo- 
rious."   (Ben  Jonson,  Dominus  Verulamius.) 

Bacon's  paradoxical  manner  of  turning  a  sentence  so  as  to 
read  two  ways  has  been  the  frequent  subject  of  comment.  A 
large  number  of  puns  and  quibbles  are  to  be  found  even  in  bis 
graver  works,  and  Ben  Jonson's  remark  shows  that,  however 
much  he  might  try  to  exclude  these  plays  upon  words  from 
his  writings,  the  habit  of  punning  was  so  confirmed  in  him  as  to 
be,  in  Jonson's  opinion,  a  disfigurement  to  his  oratory. 

"  The  most  prodigious  wit  that  ever  I  knew  ...  is  of  your 
Lordship's  name,  albeit  he  is  known  by  another. "  (Sir  Tobie 
Matthew,  letter  to  Bacon.) 

Want  of  imagination  of  the  higher  type. 

"  Of  looks  conversing  with  the  skies,  of  beauty  born  of  mur- 
muring sound  that  passes  into  the  face,  he  takes  no  account.  It 
is  the  exclusion  of  the  higher  type  that  leads  him  to  doubt 
whether  beauty  is  a  hindrance  or  a  help  in  running  the  race  of 
life."    (Storr  of  Ess.  of  Beauty.) 

"  There  is  hardly  a  trace  in  Bacon  of  that  transfusing  and 
transforming  imagination  which  creates  a  new  heaven  and  a 
new  earth;  which  reveals  the  elemental  secrets  of  things,  and 
thrills  us  with  a  shock  of  surprise  and  delight  as  a  new  revela- 
tion. .  .  .  There  is  more  of  poetry  in  Browne's  Hydriotaphia 
than  of  poetry  in  Bacon's  collected  works.  Yet  of  poetry,  in  all 
but  the  strictest  and  highest  sense  of  the  word,  Bacon  is  full. " 
(Storr,  int.  lxxxiii.    See  below.) 

Imagination  of  the  highest  type. 

"  Bacon,  whose  vast  contemplative  ends  embraced  the  image 
of  the  universal  world."     (Storr.) 

"  His  life  of  mind  was  never  exceeded,  perhaps  never  equalled. 
The  extent  of  his  views  was  immense.  .  .  .  His  powers  were 


76  FRANCIS  BACON 

varied  and  in  great  perfection,  his  senses  exquisitely  acute.  .  .  . 
His  imagination  was  most  vivid  and  fruitful, "  etc.,  etc.  (Basil 
Montagu,  vol.  xvi.  451-463.) 

"  He  was  a  man  of  strong,  clear,  and  powerful  imaginations. 
His  genius  was  searching  and  inimitable,  and  of  this  I  need  give 
no  other  proof  than  his  style  itself,  which,  as  for  the  most  part 
it  describes  men's  minds  as  well  as  pictures  do  their  bodies: 
so  it  did  Ms  above  all  men  living.  The  course  of  it  is  vigorous 
and  majestical :  the  wit  bold  and  familiar.  The  comparisons 
fetched  out  of  the  way,  and  yet  the  most  easy  :  in  all  expressing 
a  soul  equally  skilled  in  men  and  nature.  ...  He  seems  to  take 
all  that  comes,  and  to  heap  together  rather  than  to  register. 
But  I  hope  this  accusation  of  mine  can  be  no  great  injury  to  his 
memory ;  seeing  at  the  same  time  that  I  say  he  had  not  the 
strength  of  a  thousand  men.  I  do  also  allow  him  to  have  had 
as  much  as  twenty."  (See  Character  of  Lord  Bacon,  by  Dr. 
Sprat;  History  of  the  Royal  Society,  part  I.  sec.  16,  pp.  35-36.) 

Highly  poetical — Possessing  every  faculty  and  gift  of  the  true 
poet. 

"  It  is  he  that  filled  up  all  numbers,  and  performed  that  which 
may  be  compared  or  preferred  to  insolent  Greece  or  haughty 
Rome."     (Ben  Jonson.) 

"  His  Lordship  was  a  good  poet,  but  concealed,  as  appears  by 
his  letters."    (John  Aubrey.) 

The  author  of  "  The  Great  Assisss  Holden  in  Parnassus" 
ranks  Lord  Verulam  next  to  Apollo. 

"  The  poetic  faculty  was  strong  in  Bacon's  mind.  No  im- 
agination was  ever  at  once  so  strong  and  so  subjugated.  In 
truth,  much  of  Bacon's  life  was  passed  in  a  visionary  world 
.  .  .  magnificent  day-dreams  .  .  .  analogies  of  all  sorts,"  etc., 
etc.     (Macaulay.) 

"  Few  poets  deal  in  finer  imagery  than  is  to  be  found  in  Bacon. 
.  .  .  His  prose  is  poetry. "    (Campbell.) 

"  The  varieties  and  sprightliness  of  Bacon's  imagination,  an 
imagination  piercing  almost  into  futurity,  conjectures  improv- 
ing even  to  prophecy.  .  .  .  The  greatest  felicity  of  expression, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  77 

and  the  most  splendid  imagery, "  etc.,  etc.       (Basil  Montagu.) 

"  The  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients,  .  .  a  kind  of  parabolical 
poetry.  The  fables  abounding  with  the  deepest  thought  and 
beauty.  ...  To  the  Advancement  of  Learning  he  brings  every 
species  of  poetry  by  which  imagination  can  elevate  the  mind 
from  the  dungeon  of  the  b  xly  to  the  enjoying  of  its  own  essence. 
.  .  .  Metaphors,  similitudes,  and  analogies  make  up  a  great  part 
of  his  reasoning.  .  .  .  Ingenuity,  poetic  fancy,  and  the  highest 
imagination  and  fertility  cannot  be  denied  him."     (Craik.) 

"  The  creative  fancy  of  a  Dante  or  Milton  never  called  up 
more  gorgeous  images  than  those  suggested  by  Bacon,  and  we 
question  much  whether  their  worlds  surpass  his  in  affording 
scope  for  tbe  imagination.  His  extended  over  all  time.  His 
mind  brooded  over  all  nature,  .  .  .  unfolding  to  the  gaze  of  the 
spectator  the  order  of  the  universe  as  exhibited  to  angelic  in- 
telligences. "     (Devey.) 

"  The  tendency  of  Bacon  to  see  analogies  .  .  .  is  characteris- 
tic of  him,  the  result  of  .  .  .  that  mind  not  truly  philosophic, 
but  truly  poetic,  which  will  find  similitudes  everywhere  in 
heaven  aud  earth."     (Dr.  Abbott.) 

"  He  had  the  liveliest  fancy  and. most  active  imagination. 
But  that  he  wanted  the  sense  of  poetic  fitness  and  melody,  he 
might  be  almost  supposed,  with  his  reach  and  play  of  thought, 
to  have  been  capable,  as  is  maintained  in  some  eccentric  mod- 
ern theories,  of  writing  Shakespeare's  plays.  No  man  ever  had  a 
more  imaginative  power  of  illustration  drawn  from  the  most  re- 
mote and  most  unlikely  analogies  ;  analogies  often  of  the  quaint- 
est and  mo^t  unexpected  kind,  but  often,  also,  not  only  felicitous 
in  application,  but  profound  and  true."  (Church,  pp.  21,  22; 
see,  also,  pp.  19,  24,  173,  197,  200,  204,  217,  171,  201 ;  and  note 
that  Dr.  Church  here  gives  Bacon  every  attribute  of  the  poet 
excepting  the  power  to  write  poetry.) 

"  Gentle  and  susceptible  in  genius.  .  .  .  A  mind  susceptible  of 
all  impressions.  .  .  .  Trott,  a  lover  of  poetry  and  wit,  advanced 
him  money.  ...  As  a  bencher  Bacon  became  the  light  and 
genius  ...  of  Gray's  Inn;  .  .  .  dressed  the  dumb  show,  led 


78  FRANCIS  BACON 

off  the  dances,  invented  the  masques ;  a  genial  and  original 
nature."     (Hepworth  Dixon,  Story,  21,  23,  33,  etc.) 

"  I  infer  from  this  sample  that  Bacon  had  all  the  natural 
faculties  which  a  poet  wants :  a  fine  ear  for  metre,  a  fine  feeling 
for  imaginative  effect  in  words,  and  a  vein  of  poetic  passion. 
.  .  .  The  truth  is  that  Bacon  was  not  without  the  '  fine  phrensy' 
of  a  poet,"  etc.     (Spedding,  Works,  vii.  267-272.) 

Sir  Francis  Bacon  is  also  enumerated,  by  Edmund  Howes, 
amongst  a  list  of  "  Our  modern  and  present  excellent  poets, 
which  worthily  flourish  in  their  owne  works;  and  who,  accord- 
ing to  their  priorities  as  neere  as  I  could,  I  have  orderly  set 
downe. "  In  this  curious  list  Bacon  stands  eighth  and  Shake- 
speare fifteenth  in  order. 

See,  also,  Sir  Tobie  Matthew's  account  of  Bacon's  "  sprout- 
ing invention; "  his  "  ravishing  way  of  words,  metaphors,  and 
allusions  as  perhaps  the  world  hath  not  seen  since  it  was  a 
world;"  his  pre-eminence  as  the  "  Genius  of  England." 

See  Halliwell  Phillips's  Outlines,  p.  512. 

Dr.  Fischer,  of  Heidelberg,  endorses  these  opinions  in  his  work 
on  Bacon. 

He  had  little  or  no  religion. 

"  Bacon's  zeal  against  persecution  and  intolerance  arose  prob- 
ably in  no  small  measure  from  vagueness,  uncertainty,  or  indif- 
ference in  his  own  religious  beliefs."  (Fowler's  Bacon,  p.  185, 
and  see  p.  182.) 

"  He  was  guarded  by  every  sentinel  but  those  of  virtue  and 
God's  favour.  .  .  .  May  we  not  humbly,  but  urgently,  say, 
'Remember  Lord  Bacon'  .  .  .  whenever  any  effort  or  com- 
bination of  human  faculties  awakes  your  admiration  and 
applause.  .  .  .  Let  such  qualities  be  found  in  union  with  'repent- 
ance toward  God,  and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.'  We 
cannot  but  believe  that  all  that  was  low,  .  .  .  degrading,  .  .  . 
treacherous,  .  .  .  subservient,  .  .  .  and  dishonest  ...  in 
the  life  of  Lord  Bacon  could  never  have  blotted  his  noble 
escutcheon  if  he  had  walked  humbly  with  his  God,  .  .  .  with  a 


AND  HIS  SEC11ET  SOCIETY.  79 

confidence  in  God  as  a  Father;  .  .  .  a  jealousy  for  the  honour  of 
his  Saviour,  and  an  hourly  reference  ...  to  the  guidance  of 
the  Holy  Ghost, "  etc.  (Life  of  Bacon,  hy  the  Rev.  J. 
Sortain,  1790.) 

It  is  science  that  makes  him  in  any  sense  a  religious  man  — 
non-religious  in  conduct,  etc.  (Abbott,  introd'n.  to  Essays, 
p.  xl.)    Many  other  writers  and  critics  have  adopted  such  views. 

He  was  truly  religious. 

"  This  lord  was  religious;  for  though  the  world  be  apt  to  sus- 
pect and  prejudge  great  wits  and  politiques  to  have  somewhat 
of  the  atheist,  yet  he  ivas  conversant  icith  God,  as  appeareth 
throughout  the  whole  current  of  his  writings.  ...  No  man  will 
deny  him  ...  to  have  been  a  deep  philosopher.  And  not  only 
so,  but  he  was  able  to  render  a  reason  for  the  hope  which  was  in 
him,  which  that  writing  of  his  of  the  Confession  of  Faith  choth 
abundantly  testify.  He  repaired  frequently  (when  his  health 
would  permit  him)  to  the  services  of  the  church  to  hear  sermons, 
to  the  administration  of  the  sacrament  of  the  blessed  body  and 
blood  of  Christ;  and  died  in  the  true  faith,  established  in  the 
Church  of  England. "    (Dr.  Rawley's  Life  of  Bacon,  1670.) 

His  toleration  in  religious  matters  blamed. 

Bacon's  toleration  showed  a  fatal  want  of  religious  enthusiasm. 
(Storr,  intn.  to  Essays.) 

His  toleration  applauded. 

We  do  not  pretend  that  he  ever  became  a  violent  partisan 
against  the  Church  of  Rome;  .  .  .  neither,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  he  an  exclusive  advocate  for  the  Church  of  England  in 
opposition  to  the  Puritans.  ...  In  the  whole  range  of  ecclesi- 
astical history  we  can  recall  no  one  whose  mind  looked  down 
upon  church  controversies  with  more  anxious  concern.  His 
was  not  the  latitudinarianism  of  indifference.  .  .  .  We  should 
feel  that  we  were  performing  a  high  duty  to  the  Church  of 
Christ,    at   the    present  times,   to   transcribe   the  whole  of 


80  FRANCIS  BACON 

Bacon's  enlarged  view  of  church  controversies.  ...  In 
thus  stating  his  comprehensiveness  of  charity,  we  must  again 
add  that  it  was  most  remote  from  indifferentism."  (Rev.  J.  Sor- 
tain.)  This  is  the  same  author  who  shows  in  the  same  book  (Life 
of  Francis  Bacon)  that  Bacon's  weak  point  was  want  of  religion 
and  earnest  faith. 

Amongst  the  many  proofs  of  the  intense  admiration  and 
affection,  esteem  and  reverence,  which  Francis  Bacon  inspired 
in  those  who  were  personally  intimate  with  him,  none  are  more 
satisfactory  than  those  contained  in  the  voluminous,  but  still 
unpublished,  correspondence  of  Anthony  Bacon,  in  the  library  at 
Lambeth  Palace. 

Here  we  find  him  spoken  of  as  "Monsieur  le  Doux, "  and 
"  Signor  Dolce;"  his  extreme  kindness,  sweetness  of  disposition 
and  heavenly-mindedness  being  continual  subjects  of  comment. 
His  followers  and  disciples  vow  fidelity  to  him  from  simple  love 
of  him  and  his  cause ;  they  are  willing  to  go  through  the  great- 
est perils  and  sufferings,  as  indeed  we  find  them  doing,  in  order 
to  aid  in  the  objects  and  plans  which  are  most  dear  to  him — 
the  propagation  of  Christian  truth  and  of  a  wide-spread  and 
liberal  education.  1 

11  For  my  name  and  memory,  I  leave  it  to  men's  charitable 
speeches,  and  to  foreign  nations  and  the  next  ages;  "  or,  as  in 
another  copy  of  his  will,  "  and  to  mine  own  countrymen,  after 
some  time  be  past." 

These  prophetic  words  seem  now  to  be  in  process  of  fulfil- 
ment. Englishmen  must  regret  that  with  "  foreign  nations" 
lies  the  honour  of  first  and  fully  appreciating  the  genius 
of  Francis  Bacon,  and  of  being  the  first  willing  or  eager 
to  hear,  and  to  investigate  the  claims  which  have  been 
brought  forward  with  regard  to  his  authorship  of  the  "  Shake- 
speare Plays. "  What  Dr.  Rawley  said  in  1637  is  true  even  now: 
"  His  fame  is  greater  and  sounds  louder  in  foreign  parts  abroad, 
than  at  home  in  his  own  nation ;  thereby  verifying  that  divine 

l  The  following  is  reprinted  from  a  little  pamphlet  published  by  the  present 
writer  in  1884. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  81 

sentence,  A  prophet  is  not  without  honour,  save  in  his  own  coun- 
try and  in  his  own  house."  Yet  Bacon  had  a  just  confidence 
"  in  that  old  arbitrator,  Time, "  and  in  the  verdict  of  the  "  next 
ages. "  He  had  assured  himself,  long  before  he  made  his  will, 
tbat  "  the  monuments  of  wit  and  learning  are  more  durable  than 
the  monuments  of  power,  or  of  the  hands ;  »  that  learning,  "  by 
which  man  ascendeth  to  the  heavens,  is  immortal, "  for  "  the 
images  of  men's  wits  and  knowledges  remain  in  books,  exempted 
from  the  wrong  of  time,  and  capable  of  perpetual  renovation. " 

We  appeal  to  those  into  whose  hands  this  outline  of  a  great 
and  wonderful  life  may  fall,  to  lay  aside  prejudice  acquired  at 
second  hand,  and  to  study  for  themselves  the  life  and  character 
of  Francis  Bacon,  as  displayed,  not  in  any  one  or  two  question- 
able transactions,  not  from  a  few  picked  passages  of  his  volumi- 
nous works,  or  in  a  few  letters  written  under  exceptional  cir- 
cumstances, but  as  the  characters  and  lives  of  other  great 
men  are  studied,  and  as  we  humbler  individuals  would  wish  pos- 
terity to  study  and  to  judge  our  own.  Let  Bacon  be  judged  by 
the  whole  general  tenour  of  his  life,  and  works,  and  letters;  and 
by  their  influence  on  his  contemporaries  and  on  posterity  for 
good  or  for  evil. 

It  has  unhappily  become  habitual  to  Englishmen  to  criticise 
and  represent  this  "  glory  of  his  age  and  nation"  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  the  few  blemishes  which  dim  that  glory  are  magnified 
and  intensified  so  as  to  obscure  the  picture  itself.  The  result  is 
that,  perhaps,  no  other  great  man  has  been  so  much  talked  of, 
and  so  little  generally  known  or  understood,  as  Bacon.  Prob- 
ably, also,  there  are  few  men  of  any  kind  of  whom,  whilst  con- 
temporary biographers  agree  in  recording  so  much  that  is  great 
and  good,  writers  of  150  years  later  date  have  delighted  in 
ignoring  the  good,  and  in  bringing  to  the  front  and  dwelling 
upon  every  circumstance,  or  action,  or  word,  which  can  admit 
of  a  base  or  evil  interpretation.  Rather  let  us  consider  first  his 
many  great  virtues,  his  amiability,  gentleness,  sweetness  of  tem- 
per, and  consideration  for  others,  his  readiness  to  forgive  injuries 
and  to  acknowledge  any  error  in  himself,  his  generosity  and  lib- 
erality as  soon  as  he  had  any  means  at  his  disDosal,  his  magna- 


82  FRANCIS  BACON 

nimity  and  fortitude  under  calamity,  his  ardour  in  pursuit  of  truth, 
his  endless  perseverance  and  patience,  (an  acquired  virtue,  since 
he  felt  that  hy  nature  he  was  impatient  and  over-zealous),  his 
bright,  hopeful  spirit  and  large-hearted  toleration,  his  modesty, 
and  absence  of  self-importance  or  self-assertion.  This  last  virtue 
has  been  held  hy  his  biographers  to  have  been  almost  a  weak- 
ness, and  in  some  respects  a  disadvantage  to  him,  as  well  as  to 
the  world  at  large,  since  the  pliancy  of  his  disposition  and  the 
submissive  attitude  which  he  maintained  toward  his  official  supe- 
riors, and  which  were  part  of  his  nature,  have  been  brought  against 
him  as  proofs  of  "  cringing"  and"  servility."  Let  usalso  remem- 
ber the  threefold  aims  which  he  had  set  before  him  as  the  object  of 
his  life  —  "  an  object  to  live  for  as  wide  as  humanity  and  as  im- 
mortal as  the  human  race;  an  idea  vast  and  lofty  enough  to  fill 
the  soul  for  ever  with  religious  and  heroic  aspirations.  ...  Of 
Bacon's  life  no  man  will  ever  form  a  correct  idea  unless  he 
bear  in  mind  that,  from  very  early  youth,  his  heart  was  divided 
between  these  three  objects,  distinct  but  not  discordant  —  the 
cause  of  reformed  religion,  the  cause  of  his  Queen  and  country, 
and  of  the  human  race  through  all  their  generations. " 1 

If  we  also  bear  in  mind  that  not  only  was  he  profoundly 
learned,  laboriously  hard-working,  and  painstaking  in  search 
of  truth,  but  that  he  was  intensely  sensitive  and  highly  imagin- 
ative; his  mind,  as  he  said,  "  nimble  and  versatile,  quick  to  per- 
ceive analogies  "  (the  poet's  faculty),  and  ingenious  in  their 
application,  we  shall  acknowledge  that  such  a  character  is  not 
one  to  bo  harshly  judged  in  the  portion  of  his  carreer  for  which 
he  repeatedly  confesses  himself"  unfit, "  as  a  lawyer  and  a  chan- 
cellor. For  our  own  sakes,  for  justice'  sake,  let  us  first  contem- 
plate and  know  him  at  his  best,  as  "  the  pioneer  of  truth,"  the 
"  patriot  born,"  the  poet-philosopher,  the  man  who  wished  to 
spend  and  be  spent  for  the  advancement  of  learning  and  the 
benefit  of  the  human  race. 

Theobald,  in  the  preface  to  his  edition  of  "Shakespeare," 
says  kindly:    "  The  genius  that  gives  us  the  greatest  pleasure 

1  Condensed  from  Spedding,  L.  L.  i.  5. 


■AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  83 

sometimes  stands  in  need  of  our  iudulgence.  Whenever  this 
happens  with  regard  to  Shakespeare,  I  would  willingly  impute 
it  to  a  vice  in  his  times. " 

So  said  Bacon  of  himself  (though  it  was  never  his  manner  to 
excuse  himself):  "  This  is  all  I  can  say  for  the  present  concern- 
ing my  charge.  .  .  I  do  not  fly  to  say  that  these  things  are 
vitia  temporis,  and  not  vitia  hominis."  But  may  not  the  same 
indulgence  which  has  been  accorded  to  "  Shakespeare  "  be 
accorded  equally  to  Bacon  ? 

Of  Shakespeare  we  know  nothing  creditable;  he  was  vulgar, 
jovial,  and  money-loving.  Of  Bacon  we  have  the  testimony  of 
contemporaries  whose  opinion  is  above  all  suspicion  of  interested 
motives,  and  we  know  that  those  who  saw  him  nearest,  and 
those  who  knew  him  longest,  give  him  the  best  character. 

Sir  Tobie  Matthew,  writing  (1618)  to  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tus- 
cany, gives  some  account  of  his  career  and  position,  and  a  de- 
scription of  his  immense  intellectual  powers.  He  goes  on  to  say 
that  the  praise  applies  not  only  to  the  qualities  of  the  intellect, 
but  as  well  to  those  "  which  are  rather  of  the  heart,  the  will,  and 
the  moral  virtue;  being  a  man  most  sweet  in  his  conversation 
and  ways,  grave  in  his  judgments,  invariable  in  his  fortunes, 
splendid  in  his  expenses;  a  friend  unalterable  to  his  friends;  an 
enemy  to  no  man;  a  most  hearty  and  indefatigable  servant  to 
the  King,  and  a  most  earnest  lover  of  the  public  — having  all 
the  thoughts  of  that  large  heart  of  his  set  upon  adorning  the  age 
in  which  he  lives,  and  benefiting,  as  far  as  possible,  the  whole 
human  race. " 

"  And  I  can  truly  say, '?  he  adds,  "  having  had  the  honour  to 
know  him  for  many  years,  as  well  when  he  was  in  his  lesser  for- 
tunes as  now  that  he  stands  at  the  top  and  in  the  full  flower  of  his 
greatness,  that  I  never  yet  saw  any  trace  in  him  of  a  vindictive 
mind,  whatever  injury  were  done  him,  nor  ever  heard  him  utter 
a  word  to  any  man's  disadvantage  which  seemed  to  proceed  from 
personal  feeling  against  the  man,  but  only  (and  that  too  very 
seldom)  from  judgment  made  of  him  in  cold  blood.  It  is  not  his 
greatness  that  I  admire,  but  his  virtue:  it  is  not  the  favours  I 
have  received  from  him  (infinite  though  they  be)  that  have  thus 


84  FRANCIS  BACON 

enthralled  and  enchained  my  heart,  but  his  ichole  life  and  char- 
acter; which  are  such  that  if  he  were  of  an  inferior  condition  I 
could  not  honour  him  the  less,  and  if  he  were  mine  enemy  I 
should  not  the  less  love  and  endeavour  to  serve  him. " 

Dr.  Kawley's  short  Life  of  Bacon  deals  more  with  his  circum- 
stances and  works  than  with  his  character,  yet  his  opinion  is 
the  same  as  Sir  Tohie's.  During  his  residence  in  Gray's  Inn, 
Bacon  "  carried  himself,"  says  Dr.  Eawley,  "  with  such  sweet- 
ness, comity,  and  generosity,  that  he  was  much  revered  and 
loved  by  the  Readers  and  Gentlemen  of  the  House  "  (or  Inn). 
Again,  "  When  his  office  called  him,  as  he  was  the  King's  Coun- 
cil Learned,  to  charge  any  offenders,  .  .  .  he  was  never  insulting 
or  domineering  over  them,  but  always  tender-hearted,  and  car- 
rying himself  decently  towards  the  parties  (though  it  was  his 
duty  to  charge  them  home),  as  one  that  looked  upon  the  example 
with  the  eye  of  severity,  but  upon  the  person  with  the  eye  of 
pity  and  compassion.  And  in  civil  business,  as  he  was  Councillor 
of  State,  he  had  the  best  way  of  advising,  .  .  .  the  King  giving 
him  this  testimony, '  That  he  ever  dealt  in  business  suavibus  modis, 
which  was  the  way  that  was  most  according  to  his  heart.' " 
Having  borne  testimony  to  his  "  prime  and  observable  parts, 
.  .  .  abilities  which  commonly  go  singly  in  other  men,  but 
which  in  him  were  conjoined"  —  sharpness  of  wit,  memory, 
judgment,  and  elocution,  together  with  extraordinary  celerity 
in  writing,  facility  in  inventing  and  "  caution  in  venting  the 
imagination  or  fancy  of  his  brain  "  —  Dr.  Rawley  records  his 
industry,  his  anxiety  to  write  so  as  to  be  easily  understood,  the 
charm  of  his  conversation,  and  his  power  of  "  drawing  a  man  on 
so  as  to  lure  him  to  speak  on  such  a  subject  as  wherein  he  was 
peculiarly  skilful,  and  would  delight  to  speak,  contemning  no 
man's  observation,  but  lighting  his  torch  at  every  man's  candle- 
.  .  .  His  opinions  and  assertions  were,  for  the  most  part,  bind- 
ing, and  not  contradicted  by  any.  ...  As  he  was  a  good  serv- 
ant to  his  master"  (being  never  in  nineteen  years'  service 
rebuked  by  the  King  for  anything),  "  so  he  was  a  good  master  to 
his  servants,  .  .  .  and  if  he  were  abused  by  any  of  them  in  their 
places,  it  was  not  only  the  error  of  the  goodness  of  his  nature, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  85 

but  the  badge  of  their  indiscretions  and  intemperances. "  After 
speaking  of  Bacon  as  a  "  religious  "  man,  able  to  give  a  reason 
of  the  hope  which  was  in  him, "  and  observant  of  the  services 
and  sacraments  of  the  Church  of  England,  Dr.  Rawley  continues: 
"  This  is  most  true.  He  was  free  from  malice,  no  revenger  of 
injuries,  which,  if  he  had  minded,  he  had  both  opportunity  and 
high  place  enough  to  have  done  it.  He  was  no  hearer  of  men 
out  of  their  places.  .  He  was  no  defamer  of  any  man  to  his 
Prince,  .  .  .  which  I  reckon  not  among  his  moral  but  his  Chris- 
tian virtues. " 

John  Aubrey,  in  his  MS.  notes,  jotting  down  several  pleasant 
anecdotes  of  Bacon  and  his  friends,  adds:  "  In  short,  all  that 
were  great  and  good  loved  and  honoured  him  [the  italics  are 
Aubrey's  own];  his  favourites  took  bribes,  but  his  Lordship 
always  gave  judgment  secundem  aquum  et  bonum.  His  decrees  in 
Chancery  stand  firm :  there  are  fewer  of  his  decrees  reversed  than 
of  any  other  Chancellor. " 

The  tributes  to  Bacon's  personal  worth  by  his  physician, 
Peter  Boener  and  by  Sir  Thomas  Meautys,  have  already  been 
noticed.  We  conclude  this  brief  sketch  with  the  last  clause  in 
the  posthumous  record  which  Ben  Jonson  wrote,  under  the 
title  of  Bominus  Verulamius,  in  his  notes  on  "  Discoveries  upon 
Men  and  Matter  "  : 

"  My  conceit  of  his  person  was  never  increased  toward  him 
by  his  place,  or  honours;  but  I  have  and  do  reverence  him  for  the 
greatness  that  was  only  proper  to  himself,  in  that  he  seemed 
to  me  ever,  by  his  work,  one  of  the  greatest  men,  and  most 
worthy  of  admiration,  that  had  been  in  many  ages.  In  his 
adversity  I  ever  prayed  that  Cod  would  give  him  strength;  for 
greatness  he  could  not  want,  neither  could  I  condole  in  a  word 
or  syllable  for  bim,  as  knowing  no  accident  could  do  harm  to 
virtue,  but  rather  help  to  make  it  manifest.  " 

If,  as  we  have  been  told,  such  heartfelt  words  as  these  are 
merely  the  effusions  of  personal  attachment,  or  of  "  partial  " 
and  "  admiring  "  friendship,  what  can  any  of  us  desire  better 
ourselves  than  that  we  may  so  live  as  to  win  such  admiration 
and  to  attach  and  retain  such  devoted  friends?  And  yet  the 
friendship  of  those  who  lived  in  the  presence  of  Bacon,  who 


86  FEANCIS  BACON 

worked  with  and  for  him,  who  knew  him  in  his  struggles  and  in 
his  triumphs,  in  his  greatness  and  in  his  fall,  is  not  the  only 
friendship  which  he  has  secured.  Those  still  revere  and  love 
him  best  who,  like  Basil  Montagu,  James  Spedding,  aud  Hep- 
worth  Dixon,  have  devoted  years  of  their  lives  to  the  study  of 
his  works  and  the  contemplation  of  his  life  and  character. 

Lord  Macaulay,  who  wrote  one  essay  on  Bacon,  is  astonished  at 
the  enthusiasm  with  which  a  prolonged  intimacy  with  the  works 
and  life  of  that  great  man  had  inspired  his  biographer,  Basil 
Montagu.  "  The  writer,"  says  Macaulay,  "  is  enamoured  of  his 
subject.  It  constantly  overflows  from  his  lips  and  his  pen." 
But  this  is  the  impression  made  upon  most  thoughtful  persons 
who  read  and  read  again  (without  previous  prejudice  or  the  aid 
of  a  commentator)  the  works  and  letters  of  Bacon,  until  they 
come  to  know  not  only  the  matter,  but  the  man  himself. 

There  can,  we  think,  be  but  one  issue  to  such  a  study: 
admiration  deepening  into  esteem,  sympathy,  and  a  feeling  of 
personal  friendship,  which  no  hostile  or  piecemeal  criticism  will 
avail  to  shake. 

The  admiring  warmth  with  which  "  Shakespeare  "  scholars 
have  justly  extolled  the  character  of  their  ideal  author  is  precisely 
that  which  creeps  over  and  possesses  the  soul  of  the  earnest 
disciple  of  the  "  myriad-minded  "  Bacon.  We  may  be  incapable 
of  following,  even  in  imagination,  "  the  vast  contemplative 
ends  "  which  he  proposed  to  himself,  and  to  the  accomplishment 
of  which  his  life  was  actually  consecrated.  But  no  one  who  can 
apprehend,  however  dimly,  the  plan  and  purpose  of  such  a  life, 
can  withhold  from  it  a  tribute  of  admiration,  or  can  remain 
insensible  of  the  influence  for  good  which  that  man  must  by 
personal  example  have  shed  around  him,  and  which  through 
his  works  he  still  diffuses.  And,  says  Ben  Jonson  at  the 
conclusion  of  his  sketch  of  Bacon's  genius,  "  There  is  not- 
one  color  of  the  mind  and  another  of  the  works."  Such  as 
works  are  as  a  whole,  such  on  the  whole  is  their  author. 
Goodness,  as  well  as  greatness,  is  impressed  upon  the  writings 
of  Bacon.  We  may  be  awe- struck  in  the  contemplation  of  his 
magnificent  powers  of  mind,  enchanted  with  his  language,  and 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  87 

with  the  consummate  ability  with  which  he  treats  of  all  subjects, 
great  or  small;  but  we  feel  that  this  is  not  all.  Mere  intellect 
may  attract  attention  and  admiration,  but  it  does  not  win  es- 
teem. Running  through  the  whole  of  his  works  there  is  a  thread 
of  genuine  goodness.  It  is  a  thread  rather  underlying  the  sub- 
stance than  superficially  exhibited,  but  it  is  inextricably  inter- 
woven. Everywhere  from  Bacon'sworks  there  radiates  this  good- 
ness, kindness  of  heart,  large-minded  toleration,  "  enthusiasm  of 
humanity,"  respect  for  authority,  reverence  for,  and  trust  in,  a 
great  and  good  God.  This  it  is  which  "  enthralled"  his  personal 
friends  and  "  enamoured  "his  later  biographer.  This  it  is  which 
prompts  us  to  exclaim  of  him  as  Holofernes  did  of  Virgil: 

"  Who  understandeth  thee  not,  loveth  thee  not." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FRANCIS  BACON:    AN   OUTLINE   OF  HIS   LIFE  AND  AIMS. 

"All  is  not  in  years  to  me;  somewhat  is  in  hours  well  spent." 

— Promus. 
"Yet  hath  Sir  Proteus,  for  that's  his  name, 

Made  use  and  fair  advantage  of  his  days; 
His  head  unmellow'd,  but  his  judgment  ripe." 

— Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  ii.  4. 

MANY  and  various  opinions  have  been  expressed  in  modern 
times  concerning  Francis  Bacon,  and  the  motives  and 
aims  supposed  to  have  influenced  his  course  and  actions  in 
public  capacities.  We  may  safely  pass  by  these  phases  of  his 
wonderful  career,  so  carefully  and  devotedly  recorded  in  the 
calm  pages  of  James  Spedding, l  and  will  for  the  present  consider 
the  personality  and  life  of  Bacon  from  two  different  aspects: 
first,  as  the  poet;  secondly,  as  the  most  ardent  promoter,  if  not 
the  founder,  of  a  vast  secret  society,  destined  to  create  a  com- 
plete reformation  in  learning,  science,  literature,  and  religion 
itself,  throughout  the  whole  wide  world.  In  the  lively  works  of 
Hepworth  Dixon,  and  in  scattered  episodes  in  Spedding's  Life 
of  Bacon,  we  get  occasional  peeps  behind  the  scene.  But,  in 
the  last  named  work  especially,  it  appears  as  if  we  were  not 
meant  to  do  so.  The  facts  that  Bacon  in  his  youth  "  masked 
and  mummed,"  and  led  tbe  revels  at  Gray's  Inn;  that  through- 
out his  life  he  was  appealed  to  on  all  great  occasions  to  write 
witty  speeches  for  others  to  deliver  at  the  gorgeous  "  enter- 
tainments "  which  were  the  fashion  of  the  day  (and  in  which, 
doubtless,  he  took  a  leading  part,  in  the  background) ;  that  he 
and  his  brother  Anthony,  who  was  living  with  him  in  1594, 

1  See  "Letters  and  Life  of  Bacon,"  seven  vols.,  8vo,  or  the  abridgment  of 
them,  "Life  and  Times  of  Bacon,"  and  especially  "Evenings  with  a  Reviewer," 
2  vols.,  8vo — James  Spedding. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  89 

actually  removed  from  their  lodgings  in  Gray's  Inn  to  a  house  in 
Bisbopsgate  Street,  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  The  Bull  Inn, 
where  plays  and  interludes  were  acted.  These  and  many  such 
important  factors  in  his  private  history  are  slipped  over,  or  alto- 
gether omitted  in  most  accounts  of  him,  They  should  not  be  so 
passed  by,  for  Bacon's  theatrical  proclivities  were  no  mere  boy- 
ish or  youthful  taste ;  they  grew  with  him  and  formed  a  very 
important  part  of  his  "  method  of  discourse, "  a  meaus  by  which 
he  could  inform  those  who  could  not  read,  instilling  through  the 
eyes  and  ears  of  the  body  sound  teaching  on  all  sorts  of  subjects. 
The  stern  morality  which  was  often  thus  inculcated  would  not  for 
one  instant  have  been  listened  to,  with  patience,  from  the  pulpit 
or  the  professed  teacher,  by  the  class  of  persons  for  whose  benefit 
we  believe  that  Francis  Bacon  wrote  his  earliest  (and  unac- 
knowledged) plays.  It  will  be  seen  that  this  love  and  respect 
for  the  theatre  was  with  him  to  the  end  of  his  life.  Nearly 
fifty  metaphors  and  figures  based  upon  stage-playing  are  to  be 
found  in  his  grave  scientific  works,  and  in  the  Latin  edition  of 
the  Advancement  of  Learning,  published  simultaneously  with 
the  collected  edition  or  "  Folio  "  of  the  Shakespeare  plays  in 
1623,  he  inserts  a  brave  defence  of  stage-playing  and  a  lament 
for  the  degradation  of  the  theatre  in  his  day. 

Most  persons  who  peruse  these  pages  are  probably  acquainted 
with  the  outlines  of  Bacon's  life.  We  therefore  merely  piece 
together  particulars  extracted  from  the  works  of  his  most 
painstaking  and  sympathetic  biographer,  James  Spedding,  and 
from  the  shorter  "  lives"  and  biographies  of  his  secretary,  Dr. 
Rawley,  Hepworth  Dixon,  Prof.  Fowler,  and  others. 

Francis  Bacon  was  born  on  the  22d  of  January,  1561,  at  York 
House,  in  the  Strand.  His  father,  Sir  Nicholas  (counsellor  to 
Queen  Elizabeth,  and  second  prop  in  the  kingdom),  was  a  lord 
of  known  prudeuce,  sufficiency,  moderation,  and  integrity.  His 
mother,  Lady  Anne  Cooke,  a  choice  lady,  was  eminent  for  piety 
and  learning,  being  exquisitely  skilled,  for  a  woman,  in  the 
Greek  and  Latin  languages.  "  These  being  the  parents,"  says 
Dr.  Rawley,  "  you  may  easily  imagine  what  the  issue  was  like 


90  FRANCIS  BACON 

H 

to  be,  having  had  whatsoever  nature  or  breeding  could  put 
in  him." 

Sir  Nicholas  is  described  as  "  a  stout,  easy  man,  full  of  con- 
trivance, with  an  original  and  projective  mind."  The  grounds 
laid  out  by  him  at  Gorkambury  suggested  to  his  son  those  ideas 
of  gardening  which  he  himself  afterwards  put  into  practice, 
and  which,  developed  in  his  essays  and  other  writings, i  have 
led  to  the  foundation  of  an  English  style  of  gardening.2 
So  with  regard  to  cultivation  of  another  kind.  The  scheme 
which  Sir  Nicholas  presented  to  Henry  VIII.  for  the  endowment 
of  a  school  of.  law  and  languages  in  London,  is  thought  to  have 
been,  perhaps,  the  original  germ  of  the  New  Atlantis,  the 
idea  being  transferred  from  statecraft  to  nature.  In  politics 
the  Lord  Keeper  held  to  the  English  party;  that  party  which  set 
its  face  against  Rome,  and  those  who  represented  Koine;  against 
the  Jesuits,  the  Spaniards,  and  the  Queen  of  Scots.  If  ho  felt 
warm  against  any  one,  it  was  against  the  latter,  whom  he  de- 
tested, not  ouly  as  a  wicked  woman,  but  as  a  political  tool  in 
the  hands  of  France  and  Spain.  By  the  help  of  his  clear  head 
and  resolute  tongue,  the  great  change  of  religion,  which  had 
recently  taken  place,  had  been  accomplished,  and  it  may  easily 
be  believed  that  "  Burghley  himself  was  scarcely  more  honoured 
by  invective  from  Jesuit  pens."  But  on  the  bench  he  had 
neither  an  equal  nor  an  enemy.  Calm,  slow,  cautious  in  his 
dealings,  he  was  at  the  same  time  merry,  witty,  and  overflowing 
with  humour  and  repartee;  qualities  which  recommended  him 
very  highly  to  the  irritable,  clever  Queen,  who  loved  a  jest 
as  well  as  he,  and  who  seems  to  have  appreciated  the  value  of  a 
faithful  minister  imbued  with  so  much  strong  common  sense, 
and  with  no  dangerous  qualities.  Francis  Bacon  records  a  say- 
ing concerning  his  father,  which  was,  doubtless,  to  the  point,  or 
he  would  not  have  entered  it  amongst  his  apophthegms:  "  Some 
men  look  wiser  than  they  are, — the  Lord  Keeper  is  wiser  than 
he  looks. " 

1  There  seeui  to  be  many  books  of  gardening  and  kindred  subjects  which 
will  some  day  be  traced  to  Bacon. 

2  Hepworth  Dixon's  Story  of  Bacon's  Life,  p.  17,  from  which  we  shall  make 
large  extracts,  the  book  being  out  of  print. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  91 

So  many  circumstances  and  little  particulars  crop  up  as  these 
things  are  looked  into,  allusions  and  hints  about  Sir  Nicholas  as 
well  as  doubts  and  obscurities  concerning  his  early  life  and 
doings,  and  such  particulars  all  tend  toward  making  us  regard 
with  more  attention,  and  to  attach  more  importance  to  this  note 
of  Francis  Bacon.  The  thought  suggests  itself,  Was  it,  perhaps, 
this  wise,  witty,  cautious  man,  "  full  of  contrivance,  and  with  an 
original, projective  mind,"  who  first  contrived  and  projected  a 
scheme  for  the  accumulation,  transmission,  and  advancement 
of  learning,  which  it  was  left  to  his  two  sons,  Anthony  and 
Francis,  to  develop  and  perfect  ? 

This  is  amongst  the  problems  which  at  present  we  cannot 
answer,  because  so  little  is  known— or  perhaps  it  should  be 
said,  so  little  is  published  —  concerning  Sir  Nicholas  and 
Anthony.  Later  on  we  hope  to  contribute  to  the  general  stock 
all  the  information  about  Anthony  which  we  have  been  able  to 
collect  from.unprinted  MSS.,  and  to  show  that  there  can  be  no 
doubt  of  his  having  been  a  poet  and  a  considerable  author,  as 
well  as  an  active  propagandist  for  the  secret  society  of  which 
he  seems  always  to  acknowledge  his  still  more  talented  and 
versatile  brother,  Francis,  to  have  been  the  head. 

For  the  full  and  satisfactory  elucidation  of  many  difficulties 
and  obscurities  which  will  arise  in  the  course  of  this  study,  it  is 
of  imperative  importance  that  the  histories  and  private  life  of  Sir 
Nicholas  and  Anthony  Bacon  shall  be  submitted  to  a  searching 
and  exhaustive  investigation; l  for  the  present  we  must  pass  on. 


iThe  notices  of  Anthony  in  ordinary  books,  such  as  Spedding,  Hepworth 
Dixon,  etc.,  are  quite  brief  and  imperfect.  A  good  summary  of  all  these  is  to 
be  found  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  edited  by  Leslie  Stephen 


England,  France,  and  Brussels  from  the  year  1592-1617.  (London,  1749.)  Both 
of  these  by  Thomas  Birch.  Ther  are  out  of  print  and  should  be  republished. 
The  hard  worker  will  also  find  plenty  of  material  in  the  16  folio  vols,  of 
Anthonr  Bacon's  unpublished  correspondence—  Tenison  MSS..  Lambeth  Pal- 
ace, and  in  the  British  Museum  the  following:  Harhian  MSS.  No.  286,  art.  144, 
14."),  146,  147,  148.  Cotton  Lib.,  Calig.  E,  vii.  205;  Nero,  B,  vi.  290,  291, 
293-303.  337.  371.  380,  333-395,  398,  403,  413  b.  Lansdown  MSS.  No.  38,  53,  87, 
29,  44,  74,  87,  107,  11,  12. 


92  FRANCIS  BACON 

The  mother  of  Anthony  and  Francis  was  an  important  and 
interesting  personage.  She  was  the  second  wife  of  Sir  Nicholas. 
The  first  wife  seems  to  have  been  a  quiet,  ordinary  woman,  of 
whom  there  is  little  or  nothing  to  say  excepting  that  she  left 
three  sons  and  three  daughters.  Of  these  half-brothers  and 
sisters,  not  one  appears  to  have  been  in  any  way  "  brotherly, " 
kind,  or  useful  to  Francis,  excepting  the  second  son,  Nathaniel, 
who  took  to  the  arts,  and  painted  a  portrait  of  his  mother  stand- 
ing in  a  pantry,  habited  as  a  cook.  It  is  probable  that  Nathan- 
iel assisted  his  younger  brother  by  making  some  of  the  designs 
and  pictures  which  will  be  explained  further  on. 

Lady  Anne  Bacon  was  a  woman  of  higher  birth,  of  loftier 
character,  than  her  husband.  If  the  three  life-like  terra  cotta 
busts  at  Gorhambury  and  other  existing  portraits  are  compared, 
it  will  be  seen  that  it  is  from  the  mother  that  the  boy  derived 
the  chiseled  features  and  the  fine  development  of  the  brow. 
From  the  father  came  the  softer  expression,  the  side-long  look, 
the  humourous  twinkle  in  the  eye.  Lady  Anne,  though  we 
know  her  to  have  been  a  tender  mother  and  a  woman  of  strong 
affections,  was  yet  a  somewhat  stern,  masterful  and  managing 
head  of  the  house,  and  so  she  appears  in  her  portraits.  The 
daughter  of  Sir  Anthony  Cooke  of  Geddy  Hall  in  Essex,  scholar 
and  tutor  to  Edward  VI.,  she  inherited  the  whole  of  her 
father's  religious  creed,  and  not  a  little  of  his  accomplishments 
in  Greek.  That  religion  was  to  fear  God  and  hate  the  Pope. 
For  a  papist  she  had  no  tolerance,  for  this  ^discriminating  re- 
pugnance had  been  born  in  her  blood  and  bred  in  her  bone. 

The  importance  of  these  particulars  can  hardly  be  over-esti- 
mated when  taken  in  connection  with  what  we  know  of  the 
development  of  Francis  Bacon's  character,  and  with  the  aims 
and  aspirations  which  he  set  up  for  himself.  There  never  was 
a  period  in  his  life  when  judgment  seems  to  have  been  lacking 
to  him.  His  earliest  and  most  childish  recorded  speeches  are 
as  wise,  witty,  and  judgmatical  in  their  way  as  his  latest. 
"  His  first  and  childish  years, "  says  Dr.  Rawley,  "  were  not 
without  some  mark  of  eminency;  at  which  time  he  was  enslaved 
with  that  pregnancy  and  towardness  of  wit,  as  they  were  pre- 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  93 

sages  of  that  deep  and  universal  apprehension  which  was  mani- 
fest in  him  afterwards." 

Having,  then,  this  excellent  gift  of  discernment  or  "judg- 
ment," Francis  Bacon  was  never  intolerant,  for  intolerance  is  a 
sign  of  want  of  judgment,  of  that  power  or  desire  to  grasp  both 
sides  of  a  question  and  to  judge  between  them  which  was  a  pre- 
eminent faculty  and  characteristic  of  Bacon's  mind.  The  ten- 
dency to  turn  every  question  inside  out,  hind-side  before  and 
wrong  side  upwards,  is  perceptible,  not  only  in  his  argu- 
ments, theories,  and  beliefs,  but  it  pervades  the  whole  of  his 
language,  and  is  the  cause  of  that  antithetical  style  which  is  so 
peculiarly  characteristic  in  his,  writings. 

Although  he  must,  from  his  earliest  infancy,  have  been  influ- 
enced by  the  mother  whom  he  esteemed  as  a  "  saint  of  God," 
with  a  deep  interest  in  the  condition  of  the  church,  Francis 
Bacon  never  allowed  fervour  to  degenerate  into  the  "  over- ween- 
ing zeal  or  extremes "  in  religion  which  "  do  dissolve  and 
deface  the  laws  of  charity  and  of  human  society."  Lady 
Anne  perfectly  believed  that  the  cause  of  the  Non-Conformists 
was  the  whole  cause  of  Christ.1  Francis  never  believed  that; 
and  it  seems  to  be  a  reasonable  explanation  of  much  that  took 
place  between  mother  and  son,  that  he  was  forever  putting  in 
practice  his  own  injunctions  regarding  the  necessity  for  great 
tenderness  and  delicacy  in  matters  of  religion,  and  urging  that 
unity  could  only  be  hoped  for  in  the  church  when  men  should 
learn  that  "  fundamental  points  are  to  be  truly  discerned  and 
distinguished  from  matters  not  merely  of  faith,  but  of  opinion, 
order,  or  good  intention. "  On  fundamental  points,  on  all  that 
is  "of  substance,"  they  were  of  one  accord;  but  Frauds 
Bacon's  religion  was  built  upon  a  far  wider  and  broader  basis 
than  that  of  his  pious,  Calvinistic  mother,  or  of  many  of  her 
relations.  For  the  Greys,2  the  Burleighs,  Russells,  Hobys,  and 
Nevilles,  in  short,  the  whole  kindred  of  Francis  Bacon  by  the 
male  and  female  lines,  professed  the  severest  principles  of  the 

1  Speckling,  Let.  and  L.  i.  3. 

2  The  wife  of  William  Cooke  (Lady  Anne's  brother)  was  cousin  to  Lady 
Jane  Grey. 


94  FRANCIS  BACON 

Reformation.  Some  of  them  had  been  exiled  (amongst  them 
Lady  Anne's  father,  Sir  Anthony  Cooke),  some  even  sent  to  the 
block  in  the  time  of  Qneen  Mary.  "  In  her  own  fierce  repug- 
nance to  the  Italian  creed  she  trained  her  sons,"  says  Hep- 
worth  Dixon.  She  may  have  made  them  intolerant  to  the  errors 
of  the  Roman  creed,  but  she  certainly  did  not  make  them  so  to 
the  believers  themselves;  for  in  after  years  Francis  Bacon's 
intercourse  with  and  kindness  to  members  of  the  Roman  Cath- 
olic church  was  a  great  cause  of  anxiety  to  his  mothur,  yet  his 
intimacy  and  correspondence  with  these  friends  continued  to 
the  end  of  his  life. 

Little  Francis  was  ten  years  old  when  he  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Queen,  and  paid  her  his  pretty  compliment :  "  How 
old  are  you,  my  child V  "  I  am  just  two  years  younger  than 
your  Majesty's  happy  reign. "  We  see  him  in  these  early  days, 
a  man  amongst  boys;  now  playing  with  the  daisies  and  speed- 
wells, and  now  with  the  mace  and  seals ;  cutting  posies  with 
the  gardener,  or  crowing  after  the  pigeons,  of  which,  his  mother 
tells  us,  he  was  fond,  roast  or  in  a  pie.  Every  tale  told  of  him 
wins  upon  the  imagination,  whether  he  hunts  for  the  echo  in 
St.  James'  Park,  or  eyes  the  jugglers  and  detects  their  tricks, 
or  lisps  wise  words  to  the  Queen.1 

"  At  twelve  years  of  age  he  was  sent  to  Cambridge  and  en- 
tered with  his  brother  Anthony  as  fellow-commoner  of  Trinity 
College,  of  which  John  Whitgift,  afterwards  Archibishop  of  Can- 
terbury, was  then  master.  Repeated  entries  in  Whitgift's 
accounts  prove  the  brothers  to  have  been  delicate  children,  and 
the  state  of  their  health  a  continual  cause  of  anxiety  to  their 
mother,  Lady  Anne.  Many  of  her  letters  are  extant,  and  show 
her,  even  to  the  end  of  her  life,  feeding  them  from  her  cellars 
and  her  poultry  yard,  looking  sharp  after  their  pills  and 
'  confections,'  sending  them  game  from  her  own  larder,  and  beer 
from  her  own  vats,  lecturing  them  soundly  on  what  they  should 
eat  and  drink,  on  their  physic  and  blood-lettings,  on  how  far 
they  might  ride  or  walk,  when  safely  take  supper,  and  at  what 

l  Rawley's  Life  of  Bacon.    Hep  worth  Dixon's  Story  of  Bacon's  Life. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  95 

hour  of  the  morning  rise  from  bed.  From  notices,  scant  but  clear, 
of  the  Lord  Keeper's  household,  we  may  see  the  two  boys  grow- 
ing up  together;  both  gentle  and  susceptible  in  genius;  as  strong 
in  character  as  they  were  frail  in  health.1  One  sees  Francis  by 
the  light  of  Hilyard's  portrait,  as  he  strolled  along  the  lawn  or 
reclined  under  ths  elms,  with  his  fat  round  face,  his  blue-grey 
eyes,  his  fall  of  brown  curls,  and  his  ripe,  jesting  mouth;  in  his 
face  a  thought  for  the  bird  on  the  tree,  the  fragance  in  the  air,  the 
insect  in  the  stream;  a  mind  susceptible  to  all  impressions."2 

"  Brief  and  barren  as  the  record  of  his  childhood  appears,  it 
may  yet  help  us,"  says  Spedding,  "when  studied  in  the  light 
which  his  subsequent  history  throws  back  upon  it,  to  under- 
stand in  what  manner,  and  in  what  degree,  the  accidents  of  his 
birth  had  prepared  him  for  the  scene  on  which  he  was  entering. 
When  the  temperament  is  quick  and  sensitive,  the  desire  of 
knowledge  strong,  and  the  faculties  so  vigorous,  obedient,  and 
equally  developed,  that  they  find  almost  all  things  easy,  the 
mind  will  commonly  fasten  upon  the  first  object  of  interest  that 
presents  itself,  with  the  ardour  of  a  first  love. "  The  same  sym- 
pathetic writer  goes  on  to  describe  the  learned,  eloquent, 
religious  mother  trying  to  imbue  her  little  son  with  her  own 
Puritanic  fervour  in  church  matters ;  the  affectionate  father,  the 
Lord  Keeper,  taking  him  to  see  and  hear  the  opening  of  Parlia- 
ment, and  instilling  into  him  a  reverence  for  the  mysteries  of 
statesmanship,  and  a  deep  sense  of  the  dignity,  responsibility, 
and  importance  of  the  statesman's  calling.  Everything  that  he 
saw  and  heard, —  the  alarms,  the  hopes,  the  triumphs  of  the 
time,  the  magnitude  of  the  interests  that  depended  upon  the 
Queen's  government ;  the  high  flow  of  loyalty  which  buoyed 
her  up  and  urged  her  forward ;  the  imposing  character  of  her 
council, —  must  have  contributed  to  excite  in  the  boy's  heart  a 
devotion  for  her  person  and  cause,  and  aspirations  after  the 
civil  dignities  in  the  midst  of  which  he  was  bred  up.     For  the 

1  lb.  From  Whitgifl'.i  Accounts,  in  Brit.  Mag.  xxxii.  365.  Heywood*s  Univer- 
sity Transactions,  i.  123-156.  Athenae  Cantabrigienses,  ii.  314.  Lambeth  MSS. 
650,  fol.  54. 

2  Dixon.    Spedding,  Letters  and  Life,  1,  2,  3. 


96  FRANCIS  BACON 

present,  however,  Ms  field  of  ambition  was  in  the  school-room 
and  library,  where,  perhaps,  from  the  delicacy  of  his  constitu- 
tion, but  still  more  from  the  bent  of  his  genius,  he  was  more  at 
home  than  in  the  playground.  His  career  there  was  victorious ; 
new  prospects  of  boundless  extent  opening  on  every  side,1  until 
at  length,  just  about  the  Age  at  which  an  intellect  of  quick 
growth  begins  to  be  conscious  of  original  power,  he  was  sent  to 
the  university,  where  he  hoped  to  learn  all  that  men  knew. 
By  the  time,  however,  that  he  had  gone  through  the  usual  course, 
he  was  conscious  of  a  disappointment,  and  came  out  of  college  at 
fifteen,  by  his  own  desire  apparently,  and,  without  waiting  to 
take  a  degree,  in  precisely  the  same  opinion  as  Montaigne  when  be 
left  college,  as  he  says,  "  having  run  through  my  whole  course, 
as  they  call  it,  and,  in  truth,  without  any  advantage  tbat  I  can 
honestly  brag  of." 

Francis  stayed  at  Cambridge  only  for  three  years,  being  more 
than  once  driven  away  by  outbreaks  of  the  plague;  once  for  so  long 
as  eight  or  nine  months.  Yet  he  had  made  such  progress  in  his 
studies  that  he  seems  to  have  begged  his  father  to  remove  him, 
because  he  had  already  found  that  the  academical  course  which 
he  was  pursuing  was  "  barren  of  the  production  of  fruits  for 
the  life  of  man. "  Leaving  the  university  before  he  was  sixteen 
and  without  taking  a  degree,  he  yet  carried  with  him  the  germs 
of  his  plan  for  reconstituting  the  whole  round  of  the  arts  and 
sciences,  a  plan  from  which  he  never  departed,  and  upon  which 
he  was  still  working  at  the  time  of  his  death. 

That  this  should  have  been  possible,  argues  an  unusually 
extensive  reading,  and  an  acquaintance  with  branches  of  learn- 
ing far  beyond  the  subjects  prescribed  by  the  university  author- 
ities, and  taking  together  all  the  facts  concerning  his  great 
schemes,  and  the  indications  which  he  gives  as  to  the  origin  of 
one  of  them,  it  is  probable  that  during  his  sixteenth  year,  and 
perhaps  earlier,  he  embarked  in  the  study  of  the  Indian,  Arabian, 

l  It  seems  probable  that  in  these  early  days  the  ideas  and  schemes  of  Sir 
Nicholas  regarding  an  improved  system  of  education  and  learning  were  dis- 
coursed of  to  his  little  son,  and  that  the  germs  of  his  own  great  plans  were  thus 
planted. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  97 

Egyptian,  and  other  ancient  philosophers  and  religious  writers, 
who  gained  such  an  influence  over  his  imagination,  and  from 
whom  he  seems  to  have  derived  many  hints  for  the  symbolism 
employed  in  the  teaching  of  his  secret  society. 

However  this  may  be,  it  is  certain  that  Francis  Bacon  was,  in 
very  early  childhood,  possessed  with  an  extraordinary  clear-head- 
edness, and  with  a  maturity  of  judgment  which  caused  him  to 
form,  when  he  was  hut  a  mere  hoy,  those  "  fixed  and  unalterable 
and  universal  opinions"  upon  which  the  whole  of  his  after  life-work 
and  philosophy  were  based — opinions  as  characteristic  as  they 
were  in  advance  of  his  age ;  theories  and  ideas  which  we  shall 
presently  find  claimed  for  others,  but  which,  wherever  they  make 
themselves  heard,  echo  to  our  ears  the  voice  of  the  "  Great 
Master. " 

During  his  three  years'  stay  at  the  university,  Francis  fell,  says 
Dr.  Rawley,  "  into  the  dislike  of  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle,  not 
for  the  unworthiness  of  the  author,  to  whom  he  would  ascribe  all 
high  attributes,  but  for  the  unfruitfulness  of  the  way,  being  a 
philosophy  (his  lordship  used  to  say)  only  strong  for  disputations 
and  contentions,  but  barren  of  the  production  of  works  for  the 
benefit  of  the  life  of  man,  in  which  mind  he  continued  to  his 
dying  day. " 

It  seems  not  a  little  strange  that  this  "  dislike  "  of  Bacon, 
which  has  been  even  made  the  subject  of  reproach  to  him,  and 
which  is  decidedly  treated  as  an  unreasonable  prejudice  pecul- 
iar to  himself,  should  not  have  been  equally  observed  in  the 
writings  of  nearly  every  contemporary  author  who  makes  men- 
tion of  Aristotle.  Let  this  point  be  noted.  To  cite  passages  would 
fill  too  much  space,  but  readers  are  invited  to  observe  for  them- 
selves, and  to  say  if  it  is  not  true  that  every  distinguished  "  au- 
thor "  of  Bacon's  day,  and  for  some  years  afterwards,  even  whilst 
ascribing  to  Aristotle  "  all  high  attributes,"  decries  his  system 
of  philosophy,  and  for  the  same  reasons  which  Bacon  gives, 
namely,  that  it  was"  fruitless"  — that  it  consisted  more  of  words 
than  of  matter,  and  that  it  did  not  enable  followers  of  Aristotle 
to  rise  above  the  level  of  Aristotle.  Yet  this  had  not  hitherto 
been  the  general  opinion. 

7 


98  FRANCIS  BACON 

"  It  seemed  that  toward  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
men  neither  knew  nor  desired  to  know  more  than  was  to 
be  learned  from  Aristotle;  a  strange  thing  at  any  time;  more 
strange  than  ever  just  then  when  the  heavens  themselves  seemed 
to  be  taking  up  the  argument  on  their  behalf,  and  by  suddenly 
lighting  up  within  the  region  of  l  the  unchangeable  and  incor- 
ruptible,' and  presently  extinguishing  a  fixed  star1  as  bright 
as  Jupiter,  to  be  protesting  by  signs  and  wonders  against  the 
cardinal  doctrine  of  the  Aristotelian  philosophy. 

"  It  ivas  then  that  a  thought  struck  him,  the  date  of  which  de- 
serves to  be  recorded,  not  for  anything  extraordinary  in  the 
thought  itself  which  had  perhaps  occurred  to  others  before  him, 
but  for  its  influence  upon  his  after  life.  If  our  study  of  nature  be 
thus  barren,  he  thought,  our  method  of  study  must  be  wrong: 
might  not  a  better  method  be  found?  The  suggestion  was  simple 
and  obvious,  and  the  singularity  was  in  the  way  he  took  hold  of 
it.  With  most  men  such  a  thought  would  have  come  and  gone 
in  a  passing  regret.  .  .  .  But  with  him  the  gift,  of  seeing  in  pro- 
phetic vision  what  might  be  and  ought  to  be  ivas  united  with  the 
practical  talent  of  devising  means  and  handling  minute  details. 
He  could  at  once  imagine  like  a  poet,  and  execute  like  a  clerk  of 
the  ivorks.  Upon  the  conviction,  This  may  be  done,  followed  at 
once  the  question,  How  may  it  be  done?  Upon  that  question 
answered,  followed  the  resolution  to  try  to  do  it. "  2 

We  earnestly  request  the  reader  to  observe  that  the  subject  of 
this  paragraph  is  a  little  boy  twelve  or  thirteen  years  old.  The 
biographer  continues: 

IThe  new  star  in  Cassiopeia  which  shone  with  full  lustre  on  the  youthful 
Bacon's  freshmanship  (and  to  which  he  is  said  to  have  attached  great  importance 
as  an  augury  of  his  own  future)  was  the  same  star — or,  as  some  think, 
comet  —  which  guided  the  wise  men  of  the  East,  the  Chaldean  astronomers  aud 
astrologers  to  the  birth-place  of  our  blessed  Saviour.  This  star  of  Bethlehem 
has  since  appeared  thrice,  at  intervals  varying  slightly  in  length.  According  to 
astronomical  calculations,  it  might  have  re-entered  Cassiopeia  in  1887,  but  its . 
uninterrupted  movements  will  correspond  with  those  previously  recorded  if  it 
appears  again  in  1891.  Wo  should  then  say  truly  that  Bacon's  star  is  still  in  the 
ascendant. 

2  Let.  and  Life,  i.  4.  Again  we  would  remind  the  reader  of  the  great  probabil- 
ity that  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon  had  implanted  this  idea  in  the  mind  of  his  brilliant 
little  son. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  99 

"  Of  the  degrees  by  which  the  suggestion  ripened  into  a  pro- 
ject, the  project  into  an  undertaking,  and  the  undertaking  un- 
folded itself  into  distinct  proportions  and  the  full  grandeur  of 
its  total  dimensions,  I  can  say  nothing.  But  that  the  thought 
first  occurred  to  him  at  Cambridge,  therefore  before  he  had  com- 
pleted his  fifteenth  year,  we  know  upon  the  best  authority — his 
own  statement  to  Dr.  Rawley.  I  believe  it  ought  to  be  regarded 
as  the  most  important  event  of  his  life;  the  event  which  had  a 
greater  influence  than  any  other  upon  his  character  and  future 
course." 

This  passage  seems,  at  first  sight,  rather  to  contradict  the 
former,  which  says  that  the  thought  came  to  Bacon  when  first 
he  went  to  Cambridge.  But  the  discrepancy  appears  to  have 
been  caused  by  the  difficulty  experienced,  as  well  by  biographer 
as  reader,  in  conceiving  that  such  thoughts,  such  practical 
schemes,  could  have  been  the  product  of  a  child's  mind. 

All  evidence  which  we  shall  have  to  bring  forward  goes  to 
confirm  the  original  statement,  that  Francis  conceived  his  plan 
of  reformation  soon  after  going  up  to  the  university;  that  he 
matured  and  organised  a  system  of  working  it  by  means  of  a 
secret  society,  before  he  was  fifteen  years  old,  by  which  time 
he  had  already  written  much  which  he  afterwards  disdained  as 
poor  stuff,  but  which  was  published,  and  which  has  all  found  a 
respectable  or  distinguished  place  in  literature. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  imagine  what  would  have  been  the  effect 
upon  such  a  mind  as  this  of  grafting  on  to  the  teaching  received 
in  a  strict  Puritan  home  the  study,  by  turns,  of  every  kind  of 
ancient  and  pagan  philosophy.  And  it  is  clear  that  Francis  Bacon 
plunged  with  delight  into  these  occult  branches  of  learning,  his 
poetic  mind  finding  a  strong  attraction  in  the  figurative  language 
and  curious  erudition  of  the  old  alchemists  and  mystics.  Did 
such  studies  for  awhile  unsettle  his  religious  ideas,  and  prepare 
him  to  shake  off  the  bands  of  a  narrow  sectarianism?  If  so, 
they  certainly  never  shook  his  faith  in  God,  or  in  the  Bible  as 
the  expression  of  "  God's  will.  "«  Such  researches  only  increased 
his  anxiety  and  aspiration  after  light  and  truth.  He  never  wrote 
without  some  reference  to  the  Divine  Wisdom  and  Goodness, 


100  FRANCIS  BACON 

some  "  laud  and  thanks  to  God  for  his  marvellous  works,  with 
prayers  imploring  His  ayde  and  blessing  for  the  illumination  of 
our  labours,  and  the  turning  of  them  to  good  and  holy  uses. " 

Bright,  witty,  and  humourous  as  Francis  naturally  was,  san- 
guine and  hopeful  as  was  his  disposition,  there  is  yet  a  strain  of 
melancholy  in  most  of  his  writings.  "  A  gravity  beyond  his 
years  "  in  youth  —  in  mature  age  a  look  "  as  though  he  pitied 
men. "  And  he  did  pity  them;  he  grieved  and  was  oppressed  at 
the  thought  that  "  man,  the  most  excellent  and  noble,  the  prin- 
cipal and  mighty  work  of  God,  wonder  of  nature,  created  in 
God's  image,  put  into  paradise  to  know  him  and  glorify  him,  and 
to  do  his  will — that  this  most  noble  creature,  0  pitiful  change! 
is  fallen  from  his  first  estate,  and  must  eat  his  meat  in  sorrow, 
subject  to  death  and  all  manner  of  intirmities,  all  kinds  of 
calamities  which  befall  him  in  this  life,  and  perad venture  eternal 
misery  in  the  life  to  come.  "* 

The  more  he  cogitated,  the  more  he  was  assured  that  the 
cause  of  all  this  sin  and  misery  is  ignorance.  "  Ignorance  is  the 
curse  of  God,  but  knowledge  is  the  wing  by  which  we  fly  to 
heaven."2 

He  reflected  that  "  God  created  man  in  His  own  image,  in  a 
reasonable  soul,  in  innocency,  in  free-will,  in  sovereignty.  That 
He  gave  him  a  law  and  commandment  which  was  in  his  power 
to  keep,  but  ho  kept  it  not;  but  made  a  total  defection  from 
God.  .  .  .  That  upon  the  fall  of  man,  death  and  vanity  en- 
tered by  the  justice  of  God,  and  the  image  of  God  was  defaced, 
and  heaven  and  earth,  which  were  made  for  man's  use,  were 
subdued  to  corruption  by  his  fall,  .  .  .  but  that  the  law  of 
nature  was  first  imprinted  in  that  remnant  of  light  of  nature 
which  was  left  after  the  fall ;  .  .  .  that  the  sufferings  and 
merits  of  Christ,  as  they  are  sufficient  to  do  away  the  sins  of 
the  whole  world,  so  they  are  only  effectual  to  those  who  are 
regenerate  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  breatheth  where  He 
will,  of  free    grace  which    quickeneth   the  spirit   of  a  man. 

1  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  i.  174. 

2  3  Heniy  YI.  iv.  7. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  101 

That  the  work  of  the  Spirit,  though  it  be  not  tied  to  any 
means  in  heaven  or  earth,  yet  is  ordinarily  dispensed,  by  the 
preaching  of  the  word,  .  .  .  prayer  and  reading,  by  God's  bene- 
fits. His  judgments  and  the  contemplation  of  His  creatures. " 

Since  most  of  these  means  are  cut  off  from  those  who  are 
plunged  in  dark,  gross  ignorance,  an  improved  method  of  study 
must  precede  the  universal  reformation  which  Bacon  contem- 
plated in  literature,  science,  philosophy,  and  in  religion  itself. 
To  bring  about  such  a  reformation  would  be  the  greatest  boon 
which  could  be  conferred  upon  suffering  humanity.  By  God's 
help  he  could  and  would  bring  it  about. 

It  would  be  almost  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  the  boy- 
philosopher  did  not  communicate  the  germs  of  such  thoughts 
and  aspirations  to  the  father  to  whom  he  was  deeply  attached, 
and  whose  ideas  are  known  to  have  been  in  close  sympathy  with 
those  of  his  favourite  son.  Dr.  Rawley  says,  significantly: 
"  Though  he  was  the  youngest  son  in  years,  he  was  not  the  low- 
est in  his  father's  affection;  "  and,  as  has  been  said  in  a  previous 
chapter,  the  visions  of  Francis  seem  to  have  been  in  some  de- 
gree foreshadowed  by  or  based  upon  earlier  plans  of  the  old 
Treasurer.  At  all  events,  the  sagacious  father  seconded  the 
plans,  and  perceived  the  growing  genius  of  his  favourite  son,  and 
when  Francis  complained  that  he  was  being  taught  at  Cam- 
bridge mere  words  and  not  matter,  Sir  Nicholas  allowed  him  to 
quit  the  university,  and  Francis,  after  lingering  a  year  or  more 
at  home,  at  his  own  desire,  and,  most  probably,  in  accordance 
with  a  conviction  which  he  afterwards  expressed,  that  "  travel 
is  in  the  younger  sort  a  part  of  education,  "was  sent  in  the  train 
of  Sir  Amias  Paulet,  the  Queen's  Ambassador  to  France,  "  to 
see  the  wonders  of  the  world  abroad. " 

Hitherto  we  have  scarcely  mentioned  Anthony  Bacon,  the 
elder  of  the  two  sons  of  Sir  Nicholas  by  his  second  wife,  Lady 
Anne;  and,  indeed,  very  little  is  known  to  the  world  in  general 
of  this  man,  who  yet,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  was  a  very 
remarkable  person,  and  who,  although  he  rarely  appeared  upon 
the  scene,  yet  played  a  very  important  part  behind  the  curtain, 
where  by  and  by  we  will  try  to  peep.    Anthony  was  two  years 


102  FEANCIS  BACON 

older  than  Francis,  and  the  hrothers  were  deeply  attached  to 
each  other.  They  never  address  or  speak  of  each  other  but  in 
words  of  devoted  affection — "  My  deerest  brother,"  "  Antonie 
my  comforte. "  As  they  went  together  to  Cambridge,  so  prob- 
ably they  left  at  the  same  time,  but  even  of  this  we  are  not 
sure.  What  next  befell  Anthony  is  unknown  to  his  biographers, 
and  there  is  a  strange  obscurity  and  mystery  about  the  life  of 
this  young  man,  who,  nevertheless,  is  described  by  Dr.  Rawley  as 
"  a  gentleman  of  as  high  a  wit,  though  not  of  such  profound 
learning,  as  his  brother."  That  he  was  a  generous,  unselfish, 
and  admiring  brother,  who  thought  no  sacrifice  great  which 
could  be  made  for  the  benefit  of  Francis,  and  for  the  forwarding 
of  his  enterprises,  we  know,  and  there  is  abundant  proof  of  the 
affection  and  reverence  which  he  had  for  his  younger  and  more 
gifted  brother.  The  mystery  connected  with  Anthony  appears 
to  be  consequent  upon  his  having  acted  as  the  propagandist  on 
the  continent  of  Francis  Bacon's  secret  society  and  new  phi- 
losophy. He  conducted  an  enormous  correspondence  with 
people  of  all  kinds  who  could  be  useful  to  the  cause  for  which 
the  brothers  were  laboring.  He  seems  to  have  received  and 
answered  the  large  proportion  of  letters  connected  with  the 
business  part  of  the  society;  he  collected  and  forwarded  to 
Francis  all  important  books  and  intelligence  which  could  be  of 
use,  and  devoted  to  his  service  not  only  his  life,  but  all  his 
worldly  wealth,  which  we  see  mysteriously  melting  away,  but 
which,  no  doubt,  went,  like  that  of  Francis,  into  the  common 
fund  which  was  destined,  as  one  of  the  correspondents  expresses 
it,  to  "  keep  alight  this  fire  "  so  recently  kindled. 

Sixteen  folio  volumes  of  Anthony  Bacon's  letters  lie,  almost 
unknown,  in  the  library  at  Lambeth  Palace.  These  leave  no 
loophole  for  doubt  as  to  his  real  mission  and  purpose  in  living 
abroad.  We  hope  to  return  to  them  by  and  by,  in  a  chapter 
devoted  to  these  letters  alone.  For  the  present  they  are  only 
mentioned  to  indicate  the  source  of  much  of  our  information 
as  to  Anthony's  life  and  aims. 

Neither  of  the  brothers  was  strong  in  health.  Anthony, 
especially,  soon  became  a  martyr  to  gout  and  other  ailments 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  103 

which  were  supposed  to  explain  the  fact  of  the  comparative  re- 
tirement in  which  he  lived  at  home  and  abroad.  Francis  seems 
chiefly  to  have  suffered  from  those  nervous  disorders— tooth- 
ache, sleeplessness,  and  "  vapours, "  "  clouds  and  melancholy  " — 
which  too  often  beset  the  body  where  the  spirit  over-crows  it. 
In  later  life,  looking  back,  he  speaks  of  having  had  good  health 
in  his  youth;  so  the  ,!  puddering  with  the  potigarie  "  was  proba- 
bly entailed  by  the  overstrain  of  such  unremitting  and  exciting 
work  as  he  undertook.  -His  natural  constitution  must  have  been 
singularly  good,  and  his  strength  unusual,  for  to  the  labours  of 
Hercules  he  added  those  of  Atlas,  cleansing  and  restoring  the 
world,  and  bearing  the  weight  of  the  whole  tremendous  work 
upon  his  own  shoulders. 

But  for  the  present  we  may  look  on  Francis  Bacon  as  free  from 
care  or  anxiety.  "  We  must  picture  him  as  in  the  season  of  all- 
embracing  hope,  dreaming  on  things  to  come,  and  rehearsing 
his  life  to  himself  in  that  imaginary  theatre  where  all  things  go 
right;  for  such  was  his  case  when — hopeful,  sensitive,  bash- 
ful, amiable,  wise  and  well-informed  for  his  age,  and  glowing 
with  noble  aspirations — he  put  forth  into  the  world  with  happy 
auspices  in  his  sixteenth  year. " l 

What  a  change  of  scene,  what  a  revulsion  of  ideas,  what  an 
upsetting  of  habits,  opinions  and  prejudices,  for  a  boy  to  be  sent 
forth  from  the  quiet  college  life  under  the  supervision  of  Whitgift, 
and  from  the  still  more  strict  routine  of  a  Puritan  home,  into  the 
gaiety,  frivolity,  dissipation  of  the  life  of  courts  and  camps! 
True,  Sir  Amias  and  Laily  Margaret  Paulet,  in  whose  suite 
Francis  was  to  travel,  were  kind  and  good,  and,  if  young  in 
years,  Francis  was  old  in  jndgment.  But  all  the  more,  let  us 
picture  to  ourselves  the  effect  on  that  lively  imagination,  and 
keenly  observant  mind,  of  the  scenes  into  which  he  was  now 
precipitated.  For  the  English  Ambassador  was  going  on  a  mis- 
sion to  the  court  of  Henri  III.  at  Paris,  and  from  thence  with  the 
throng  of  nobles  who  attended  the  King  of  France  and  the  Queen 
Mother.    The  English  embassy,  with  Francis  in  its  train,  went  in 

1  Spedding,  Letters  and  Life,  i.  6. 


101  FRANCIS  BACON 

royal  progress  down  to  Blois,  Tours  and  Poictiers,  in  the  midst 
of  alarms,  intrigues,  and  disturbances,  intermixed  with  festivi- 
ties and  license,  such  as  he  could  nevtr  have  dreamed  of.  The 
French  historian  of  the  war,  though  a  witness  of  and  actor  in 
this  comedy,  turned  from  it  in  disgust.1  "  When  two  courts 
which  rivalled  each  other  in  gallantry  were  brought  together 
the  consequence  may  be  guessed.  Every  one  gave  himself  up  to 
pleasure;  feasts  and  ballets  followed  each  other,  and  love  became 
the  serious  business  of  life. "  2 

At  Poictiers,  which  he  reached  in  1577,  Francis  Bacon  set  up 
headquarters  for  three  years.  Yet  we  are  quite  sure,  from  re- 
marks dropped  here  and  there,  that,  during  these  three  years, 
he  made  various  excursions  into  Spain  and  Italy,  learning  to 
speak,  or,  at  least,  to  understand,  both  Spanish  and  Italian. 
He  also  made  acquaintance  with  Michel  de  Montaigne,  then 
Mayor  of  Bordeaux,  and  perhaps  he  travelled  with  him,  and  kept 
his  little  record  of  the  travels.3  For  during  the  time  of  Francis 
Bacon's  sojourn  in  France  we  still  hear  of  him  as  studying  and 
writing.  Plunged  for  the  first  time  into  the  midst  of  riotous 
courtly  dissipation,  the  record  of  him  still  is,  that  he  was 
observing,  drawing  up  a  paper  on  the  state  of  Europe  — and 
what  else?  We  think  also  that  he  was  writing  essays  on  the 
society  which  was  spread  out  before  him,  and  which  he  regarded 
as  a  scene  in  a  play.  He  wrote  as  the  thoughts  ran  into  his 
pen,  with  never-failing  judgment  and  perception,  with  the 
naivete  of  youth,  with  much  enjoyment,  but  with  mistrust  of 
himself,  and  with  profound  dissatisfaction,  not  only  with  the 
state  of  society,  but  with  his  own  enjoymeut.  Society,  he  knew, 
would  neither  relish  nor  be  improved  by  essays  which  were 
known  to  be  written  by  a  youth  of  eighteen  or  nineteen ;  he 
would,  therefore,  borrow  the  robe  of  respected  eld,  and  the 
essays  should  come  forth  with  authority,  fathered  by  no  less 
a  person  than  the  Mayor  of  Bordeaux.4 

l  Hepworth  Dixon.    2  Sully's  Memoirs. 

3  The  Journal  du  Voyage  de  Michel  de  Montaigne  en  Italic  par  la  Suisse 
et  l'Allemagne,  1579  (Old  Style),  is  written  in  the  third  person:  "He,  M.  de 
Montaigne,  reported,"  etc. 

4  Of  course  it  will  be  understood  that  the  first  edition  only  of  the  Essays  is  sup- 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  105 

These  are  by  no  means  the  only  works  which  were  (in  our 
opinion)  the  products  of  those  light-hearted,  exciting  days, 
when  with  youth,  health,  genius,  keen  powers  of  enjoyment,  of 
observation,  and  of  imagination,  with  endless  energy  and  indus- 
try, andample  means  at  his  disposal, — "  Wealth,  honour,  troops  of 
friends," — -he  caught  the  first  glimpses  of  a  dazzling  phase  of 
life,  and  of  the  "  brave  newworldthat  hath  such  people  in  it."  We 
may  judge,  from  the  inscription  on  a  miniature  painted  by 
Hilliard  in  1578,  of  the  impression  made  by  his  conversation  upon 
those  who  heard  it.  There  is  his  face,  as  it  appeared  in  his 
eighteenth  year,  and  round  it  may  be  read  the  graphic  words  — 
the  natural  ejaculation,  we  may  presume,  of  the  artist's  own 
emotion :  Si  tabula  daretur  digna,  animum  mallem;  if  one  could 
but  paint  his  mind! 

He  was  still  at  Paris,  and  wishing  to  be  at  home  again,  when, 
on  February  17,  1579,  Francis  dreamed  that  his  father's  coun- 
try house,  G-orhambury,  was  plastered  over  with  black  mortar. 
About  that  time,  Sir  Nicholas,  having  accidentally  fallen  asleep 
at  an  open  window,  during  the  thaw  which  followed  a  great  fall 
of  snow,  was  seized  with  a  sudden  and  fatal  illness  of  which  he 
died  in  two  days.  The  question  whether  in  future  Francis 
"might  live  to  study"  or  must  "study  to  live,"  was  then 
trembling  in  the  balance.  This  accident  turned  the  scale 
against  him.  Sir  Nicholas,  having  provided  for  the  rest  of  his 
family,  had  laid  by  a  considerable  sum  of  money,  which  he 
meant  to  employ  in  purchasing  an  estate  for  his  youngest  son. 
His  sudden  death  prevented  the  purchase,  and  left  Francis  with 
only  a  fraction  of  the  fortune  intended  for  him,  the  remainder 
being  divided  amongst  his  brothers  and  sisters. 

Thenceforward,  for  several  years,  we  find  him  making  strenuous 
efforts  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  following  the  law  as  a  profession, 
and  endeavouring  to  procure  some  service  under  the  Queen,  more 
fitted  to  his  tastes  and  abilities.  But  the  Cecils,  now  in  power, 
not  only  refused  to  help  their  kinsman  (of  whom  it  is  said  they 

posed  to  have  been  written  at  this  time.  The  large  and  unexplained  additions 
and  alterations  are  of  a  much  later  period,  and  the  enlarged  ■  edition  did  not  ap- 
pear in  England  till  long  after  Bacon's  death. 


106  FRANCIS  BACON 

were  jealous),  but,  that  he  might  receive  no  effectual  assistance 
from  higher  quarters,  they  spread  reports  that  he  was  a  vain 
speculator,  unfit  for  real  business.  Bacon  was  thus  driven, 
"  against  the  bent  of  his  genius, "  to  the  law  as  his  only  resource. 
Meanwhile  he  lived  with  his  mother  at  Grorhainbury,  St.  Albans. 

Any  one  who  will  be  at  the  pains  to  study  the  Shakespeare 
plays,  in  the  order  in  which  Dr.  Delius  has  arranged  them  (and 
which  he  considered  to  be  the  most  correct  chronological  order), 
will  see  that  they  agree  curiously  with  the  leading  events  of 
Bacon's  external  life.  So  closely  indeed  do  the  events  coincide 
with  the  plots  of  the  plays,  that  a  complete  story  of  Bacon's  true 
life  has  been  drawn  from  them.  The  following  notes  may  be 
suggestive: 

1st  Henry  VI.  The  plot  is  laid  in  France,  and  the  scenes 
occur  in  the  very  provinces  and  districts  of  Maine,  Anjou,  Or- 
leans, Poictiers,  etc.,  through  which  Bacon  travelled  in  the 
wake  of  the  French  court. 

2nd  Henry  VI.  The  battle  of  St.  Albans.  The  incident 
recorded  on  the  tomb  of  Duke  Humphrey,  in  an  epitaph  toritten 
circa  1621  (when  Bacon  was  living  at  St.  Albans),  of  the  impostor 
who  pretended  to  have  recovered  his  sight  at  St.  Alban's  shrine, 
is  the  same  as  in  the  play.    See  2  Henry  VI.  ii.  1. 

The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  The  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  etc., 
Borneo  and  Juliet,  and  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  all  reflecting 
Francis  Bacon's  studies  as  a  lawyer,  combined  with  his  corre- 
spondence with  his  brother  Anthony,  then  living  in  Italy. 
When  Francis  fell  into  great  poverty  and  debt,  he  was  forced 
to  get  help  from  the  Jews  and  Lombards,  and  was  actually  cast 
into  a  sponging-house  by  a  "  hard  Jew, "  on  account  of  a  bond 
which  was  not  to  fall  due  for  two  months.  Meanwhile  Anthony, 
returning  from  abroad,  mortgaged  his  property  to  pay  his 
brother's  debts,  taking  his  own  credit  and  that  of  his  friends,  in  . 
order  to  relieve  Francis,  precisely  as  the  generous  and  unselfish 
Antonio  is  represented  to  do  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice.  This 
play  appeared  in  the  following  year,  and  the  hard  Jew  was 
immortalised  as  Shylock.  The  brothers  spent  the  summer  and 
autumn  of  1592  at  Twickenham. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  107 

The  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream  appears  shortly  afterwards. 
In  this  piece  Bacon  seems,  whilst  creating  his  fairies,  to  have 
called  to  his  help  his  new  researches  into  the  history  of  the 
winds,  and  of  heat  and  cold. 

The  plays  and  their  various  editions  and  additions  enable  us 
to  trace  Bacon's  progress  in  science  and  ethical  and  metaphysical 
studies.    The  politics  of  the  time  also  make  their  mark. 

Richard  II.  was  a  cause  of  dire  offence  to  the  Queen,  since  it 
alluded  to  troubles  in  Ireland,  and  Elizabeth  considered  that  it 
conveyed  rebukes  to  herself,  of  which  Essex  made  use  to  stir  up 
sedition.  The  whole  history  of  this  matter  is  very  curious,  and 
intimately  connected  with  Bacon,  but  it  is  too  long  for  repeti- 
tion here.1 

Hamlet  and  Lear  contain  graphic  descriptions  of  melancholia 
and  raving  madness.  They  appeared  after  Lady  Anne  Bacon 
died,  having  lost  the  use  of  her  faculties,  and  "being,"  said 
Bishop  Goodman,  "  little  better  than  frantic  in  her  age."    She 

Fell  into  a  sadness,  then  into  a  fast, 
Thence  to  a  watch,  thence  into  a  weakness, 
Thence  to  a  lightness,  and  by  this  declension 
Into  the  madness  wherein, 

like  Hamlet,  she  raved,  and  which  her  children  wailed  for. 

The  particulars  of  the  death  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  which  Bacon 
learned  from  her  physician,  bear  a  striking  resemblance  to  pass- 
ages in  King  Lear. 

3Iacbeth  appears  to  reflect  a  combination  of  circumstances 
connected  with  Bacon.  About  1605-6  an  act  of  Parliament  was 
passed  against  witches,  James  implicitly  believing  in  their 
existence  and  power,  and  Bacon,  in  part,  at  least,  sharing  that 
belief.  James,  too,  had  been  much  offended  by  the  remarks 
passed  upon  his  book  on  demonology,  and  by  the  contemptuous 
jokes  in  which  the  players  had  indulged  agaiust  the  Scots. 
Mixed  up  with  Bacon's  legal  and  scientific  inquiries  into  witch- 

1  See  Bacon's  Apophthegms,  Devey,  p.  166,  and  the  Apologia  of  Essex. 

2  See  Did  Francis  Bacon  write  Shakespeare,  part  ii.  p.  26,  and  Bacon's  Apo- 
logia and  Apophthegms. 


108  FRANCIS  BACON 

craft,  we  find,  in  Macbeth,  much  that  exhibits  his  acquaintance 
with  the  History  of  the  Winds,  of  his  experiments  on  Dense 
and  Mare,  and  his  observations  on  the  Union  of  Mind  and 
Body. 

A  Winter's  Tale  is  notably  full  of  Bacon's  observations  on 
horticulture,  hybridising,  grafting,  etc.,  and  on  the  virtues  of 
plants  medicinal,  and  other  matters  connected  with  his  notes 
on  the  Regimen  of  Health. 

Cymbeline,  and  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  show  him  studying 
vivisection,  and  the  effects  of  various  poisons  on  the  human 
body.  The  effects  of  mineral  and  vegetable  poisons  are  also 
illustrated  in  Hamlet,  and  if  these  plays  were  written  so  early 
as  some  commentators  suppose,  then  we  may  believe  that  cer- 
tain portions  were  interpolated  after  Bacon's  investigations 
into  the  great  poisoning  cases  which  he  was,  later  on,  called 
upon  to  conduct. 

The  Tempest  describes  a  wreck  on  the  Bermudas,  and  Cali- 
ban, the  man-monster  or  devil.  It  was  published  soon  after 
the  loss  of  the  ship  Admiral,  in  which  Bacon  had  embarked 
money  to  aid  Southampton,  Pembroke,  and  Montgomery  in  the 
colonisation  of  Virginia.  The  ship  was  wrecked  on  the  Ber- 
mudas, the  "  Isle  of  Divils. "  About  this  time  the  History  of 
the  Winds  and  of  the  Sailing  of  Ships  was  said  to  be  written. 

Timon  of  Athens,  showing  the  folly  of  a  large-hearted  and 
over-generous  patron  in  trusting  to  "  time's  flies  "  and  "  mouth- 
friends,  "  who  desert  him  in  the  time  of  need,  seems  to  have 
been  written  by  Bacon  after  his  fall  and  retirement,  to  satirise 
his  own  too  sanguine  trust  in  parasites,  who  lived  upon  him  so 
long  as  he  was  prosperous,  but  who,  on  his  reverse  of  fortune, 
deserted,  and  left  him  to  the  kindness  of  the  few  true  friends 
and  followers  on  whom  he  was  absolutely  dependent. 

Henry  VIII.  completes  the  picture.  In  a  letter  from  Bacon  to 
the  King,  in  1622,  he  quotes  (in  the  original  draft)  the  words 
which  Wolsey  utters  in  the  play  of  Henry  VIII.,  iii.  2,  454-457, 
though  Bacon  adds:  "  My  conscience  says  no  such  thing;  for  I 
know  not  but  in  serving  you  I  have  served  God  in  one.  But  it 
may  be  if  I  had  pleased  men  as  I  have  pleased  you,  it  would 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  109 

have  been  better  with  me. "  This  passage  was  cut  out  of  the 
fair  copy  of  the  letter;  its  original  idea  appeared  next  year  in 
the  play  of  Henry  VIII. 

Ben  Jonson  describes,  in  well-known  lines,  the  labour  and 
artistic  skill  necessary  for  the  production  of  mighty  verse  so 
richly  spun  and  woven  so  fit  as  Shakespeare1  s.  To  a  profound 
study  of  Nature,  which  is  exalted  by,  "  made  proud  of  his  de- 
signs,"  must  be  added  the  art  which  arrays  Nature  in  "lines 
so  richly  spun  and  woven  so  fit:" 

"  For  though  the  poet's  matter  Nature  be, 
His  art  must  give  the  fashion  ;  and  that  he 
Who  casts  to  write  a  living  line  must  sweat 
(Such  as  thine  are)  and  strike  the  second  heat 
Upon  the  Muses'  anvil ;  turn  the  same 
And  himself  with  it,  that  he  thinks  to  frame  , 
Or  for  the  laurel  he  may  gain  a  scorn ; 
For  a  good  poet's  made  as  well  as  born. 
And  such  wertthou." 

But,  as  a  mere  child,  he  seems  to  have  written,  not  words 
without  matter,  but  matter  without  art,  and  we  can  well  imagine 
him  saying  to  himself  in  after  years  : 

"  Why  did  T  write  ?    What  sin  to  me  unknown 
Dipt  me  in  ink,  my  parents',  or  my  own  ? 
As  yet  a  child,  nor  yet  a  fool  to  fame, 
I  lisped  in  numbers,  and  the  numbers  came." 

There  is  not  one,  not  even  the  poorest,  amongst  the  Shake- 
speare plays,  which  could  possibly  have  been  the  first  or  nearly 
the  earliest  of  its  author's  efforts  in  that  kind.  A  careless  peru- 
sal of  some  of  the  "  mysteries  "  or  play  interludes  which  were 
in  favour  previous  to  the  year  1579  will  enable  any  one  to  per- 
ceive the  wide  chasm  which  lies  between  such  pieces  and  —  say 
—  Titus  Andronicus  and  the  plays  of  Henry  VI.  There  are 
passages  in  these  plays  which  no  tyro  in  the  arts  of  poetry  and  of 
playwriting  could  have  penned,  and  for  our  own  part  we  look, 
not  backward,  but  forward,  to  the  crowd  of  "  minor  Elizabethan 
dramatists"  in  order  to  find  the  crude,  juvenile  effusions  which, 


110  FEAN  CIS  BA  CON 

we  believe,  will  prove  to  have  been  struck  off  by  Francis  Bacon1 
at  the  first  heat  upon  the  Muses'  anvil.  These  light  and  un- 
labored pieces  were  probably  written,  at  first,  chiefly  for  his  own 
amusement,  or  to  be  played  (as  they  often  were)  in  the  Inns  of 
Court,  or  by  the  private  "  servants"  of  his  friends,  and  in  their 
own  houses. 

Later  on,  we  know  that  he  took  a  serious  view  of  the  impor- 
tant influence  for  good  or  for  bad  which  is  easily  produced  by 
shows  and  "  stage-plays,"  set  before  the  eyes  of  the  public.  As 
has  been  said,  he  always,  and  from  the  first,  regarded  the  stage, 
not  as  a  mere  "  toy,"  but  as  a  powerful  means  of  good  —  as  a 
glass  in  which  the  whole  world  should  be  reflected—"  a  mirror 
held  up  to  nature ;  to  show  virtue  her  own  feature,  scorn  her 
own  image,  and  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time  his  form  and 
pressure." 

"Men,"  he  said,  "had  too  long 'adored  the  deceiving  and 
deformed  imagery  which  the  unequal  mirrors  of  their  own  minds 
had  presented  to  them,'  "  the  "  deformities  "  of  ignorance,  su- 
perstition, affectation,  and  coarseness.  They  should  see  these 
deformities  of  vice  and  ignorance  reflected  so  truly,  so  life-like, 
that  virtue  shonld  charm,  whilst  vice  should  appear  so  repulsive 
that  men  should  shrink  from  it  with  loathing. 

Many  of  the  plays  which  we  attribute  to  Francis  Bacon  and 
his  brother  Anthony  treat  of  low  life,  and  contain  not  a  few 
coarse  passages.  But  the  age  was  coarse  and  gross,  and  it  must 
be  observed  that,  even  in  such  passages,  vice  is  never  attrac- 
tive; on  the  contrary,  it  is  invariably  made  repelling  and  con- 
temptible, sometimes  disgusting,  and  in  every  case  good  and  the 
right  are  triumphant.  It  is  a  matter  for  serious  consideration 
whether  the  pieces  which  are  exhibited  before  our  lower  and 
middle  classes  possess  any  of  the  merits  which  are  conspicuous 
in  the  plays  (taken  as  a  whole)  of  the  time  of  Elizabeth.  We 
see  them,  we  admire  or  laugh,  and  we  come  away,  for  the  most 
part,  without  having  heard  a  single  phrase  worthy  of  repetition 
or  record.    We  remember  little  of  the  play  twenty-four  hours 

l  Again  we  add  a  saving  clause  in  favour  of  the  little  known  Anthony,  also 
"  a  concealed  poet." 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  Ill 

after  we  have  seen  it,  and  we  are  no  whit  the  wiser,  though  at 
the  time  we  may  have  been  the  merrier,  and  that  is  not  a  bad 
thing. 

Bacon  perceived,  doubtless  by  his  own  youthful  experience, 
that  men  are  far  more  readily  impressed  by  what  they  see  than 
by  what  they  hear  or  read.  That,  moreover,  they  must  be 
amused,  and  that  the  manner  and  means  of  their  recreation  are 
matters  of  no  slight  importance.  For  the  bow  cannot  always 
be  bent,  and  to  make  times  of  leisure  truly  recreative  and 
profitable  to  mind  as  well  as  body,  was,  he  thought,  a  thing 
much  to  be  wished,  and  too  long  neglected.  The  lowest  and 
poorest,  as  well  as  the  most  dissipated  or  the  most  cultivated, 
love  shows  and  stage  plays.  He  loved  them  himself.  Would  it 
not  be  possible  to  make  the  drama  a  complete  (though  unrecog- 
nised) school  of  instruction  in  morals,  manners,  and  politics, 
and  at  the  same  time  so  highly  entertaining  and  attractive 
that  men  should  unconsciously  be  receiving  good  and  wholesome 
doctrines,  whilst  they  sought  merely  to  amuse  themselves? 

There  is  no  question  that  such  things  were  to  him  true  recre- 
ation and  delight.  Sports  and  pastimes  have  for  one  object 
"  to  drive  away  the  heavy  thoughts  of  care, "  and  to  refresh  the 
spirits  dulled  by  overwork,  and  by  harping  on  one  string.  Idle- 
ness, especially  enforced  idleness,  is  no  rest  to  such  a  mind  as 
Bacon's;  and  we  know  that  he  was  always  weariest  and  least 
well  in  "  the  dead  long  vacation. "  So  we  are  sure  that  he  often 
exclaimed,  like  Theseus,  in  the  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream: 

"Come,  now;  what  masques,  what  dances  shall  we  have, 
To  wear  away  this  long  age  of  three  hours 
Between  our  after-supper  and  bedtime  ? 
Where  is  our  usual  manager  of  mirth  ? 
What  revels  are  in  hand  ?    Is  there  no  play 
To  ease  the  anguish  of  a  torturing  hour } 
Say,  what  abridgment  have  you  for  this  evening? 
What  masque  ?  what  music  ?    How  shall  we  beguile 
The  lazy  time,  if  not  with  some  delight  ? " 

Like  Theseus  and  his  friends,  he  finds  little  satisfaction  in 
the  performance  of  the  ancient  play  which  is  proposed,  and 


112  FRANCIS  BACON 

which  he  knows  by  heart,  or  in  the  modern  one,  in  which 
"there  is  not  one  word  apt  or  one  word  fitted."  He  mourns 
the  degradation  of  the  stage — in  ancient  times  so  noble,  and 
even  in  the  hands  of  the  Jesuits  wisely  used,  as  a  discipline  for 
the  actor,  and  a  means  of  wide  instruction  for  the  spectators. 

There  is  reason  to  think  that  Francis,  in  childhood,  showed 
great  talent  for  acting,  and  that  he  took  leading  parts  in  the 
Latin  plays  which  were  performed  at  college.  At  home,  such 
doings  were  checked  by  Lady  Anne's  Puritan  prejudices.  The 
strong  tendency  which  Anthony  and  Francis  evinced  for  the 
theatre,  and  for  "  mumming  and  masquing  "  with  their  compan- 
ions, was  a  source  of  great  anxiety  and  displeasure  to  this  good 
lady.  She  bewailed  it  as  a  falling-off  from  grace,  and  prayed 
yet  that  it  might  not  be  accounted  a  sin  that  she  should  permit 
her  dear  son  Francis  to  amuse  himself  at  home  in  getting  up 
such  entertainments,  with  the  help  of  the  domestics.  All  this 
renders  it  improbable  that  he  ever  had  the  opportunity  of  going 
to  a  public  theatre  until  he  went  abroad ,  and  perhaps  the  very 
coarseness  and  stupidity  of  what  he  then  saw  put  on  the  stage 
may  have  disgusted  him,  acting  as  an  incentive  to  him  to  attempt 
someting  better. 

At  all  events,  hardly  had  he  settled  down  in  Gray's  Inn,  before 
the  plays  began  to  appear.  From  this  time  there  are  frequent 
allusions,  in  the  records  of  the  Gray's  Inn  Revels,  to  the  assist- 
ance which  he  gave,  and  which  seems,  in  most  cases,  to  have 
consisted  in  writing,  as  well  as  managing,  the  whole  entertain- 
ment. If  any  names  are  mentioned  in  connection  with  such 
revels,  or  with  the  masques  and  devices  which  were  performed 
at  court,  these  names  almost  always  include  that  of  Francis 
Bacon.  Sometimes  he  is  the  only  person  named  in  connection 
with  these  festivities. 

All  this  might  be  taken  as  a  matter  of  course,  so  long  as 
Bacon  was  but  a  youth,  though  even  at  that  time  the  fact  of 
his  being  a  playwright,  or  stage-manager,  would  seem  to  be 
remarkable,  considering  the  horror  with  which  his  mother,  and 
no  doubt  many  others  of  his  near  and  dear  Puritan  relatives, 
regarded  the  performance  of  stage-plays  and  masques. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  113 

Lady  Anne,  in  a  letter  written  to  Anthony,  just  before  the 
Revels  and  the  first  performance  of  the  Comedy  of  Errors,  at 
Gray's  Inn,  in  1594,  exhorts  him  and  Francis  that  they  may 
"  not  mum,  nor  mask,  nor  sinfully  revel.  Who  were  sometime 
counted  first,  God  grant  they  wane  not  daily,  and  deserve  to  be 
named  last."  x 

Considering  the  low  estimation  in  which  the  degraded  stage  of 
that  date  was  held  by  all  respectable  people,  it  is  not  astonish- 
ing that  during  Bacon's  lifetime  (if  there  were  no  more  potent 
motive  than  this)  his  friends  should  combine  to  screen  his  repu- 
tation from  the  terrible  accusation  of  being  concerned  with  such 
base  and  despised  matters.  But  it  is  long  since  this  feeling 
against  the  stage  has  passed  away;  and,  moreover,  in  some 
cases,  we  find  Bacon  actually  instrumental  in  producing  the 
works  of  "  Shakespeare,  "not to  mention  those  which  have  become 
classical  and  of  much  esteem.  It  is,  therefore,  not  a  little  sur- 
prising to  find  that  particulars  and  records,  which  would  have 
been  reckoned  as  of  the  greatest  interest  and  importance,  if  they 
had  concerned  Shakspere  or  Ben  Jonson,  should  be  hushed  up, 
or  passed  over,  when  they  are  found  closely  to  connect  Francis 
Bacon  with  theatrical  topics.  As  an  illustration  of  our  meaning, 
it  may  be  mentioned  that  in  the  voluminous  "  Life"  of  Spedding 
the  index,  at  the  end  of  each  of  the  five  volumes,  does  not  enable  the 
uninitiated  reader  to  trace  the  fact  that  Bacon  wrote  either  devices, 
masques,  interludes,  entertainments,  or  sonnets;  none  of  these 
words  appear  in  any  index.  Moreover,  although  the  device  of 
the  Order  of  the  Helmet,  and  the  masques  of  the  Indian  Boy,  and 
the  Conference  of  Pleasure,  are  partly  printed  and  all  described 
in  that  work,  we  seek  in  vain  for  the  pieces  under  these  or  any 
other  titles,  and  they  are  only  to  be  found  by  looking  under 
Gray's  Inn  revels.  Evidently  there  has  been  no  great  desire  to 
enlighten  the  world  in  general  as  to  Bacon's  connection  with  the 
theatrical  world  of  his  day — perhaps  it  was  thought  that  such  a 
connection  was  derogatory  to  his  position  and  reputation  as  a 
great  philosopher. 

l  Lambeth  MSS.  650,  222,  quoted  by  Dixon.    So  here  again  we  see  Anthony 
also  mixed  up  with  play- writing. 
8 


114  FRANCIS  BACON 

Hepworth  Dixon  goes  into  the  opposite  extreme  when  he 
speaks  of  Lady  Anne,  in  letters  written  as  late  as  1592,  "  loving 
and  counselling  her  two  careless  boys. "  Francis  was  at  that 
date  thirty,  and  Anthony  thirty-two  years  of  age.  A  year  later 
Francis  wrote  to  his  uncle,  Lord  Burleigh:  "  I  wax  somewhat 
ancient.  One  and  thirty  years  is  a  good  deal  of  sand  in  a  man's 
hour-glass.  My  health,  I  thank  God,  I  find  confirmed;  and  I  do 
not  fear  that  action  shall  impair  it,  because  I  account  my  ordi- 
nary course  of  study  and  meditation  to  be  more  painful  than 
most  parts  of  action  are."  He  goes  on  to  say  that  he  always 
hoped  to  take  some  "  middle  place"  in  which  he  could  serve  her 
Majesty,  not  for  the  love  either  of  honour  or  business,  "  for  the 
contemplative  planet  carrieth  me  away  wholly, "  but  because  it 
was  his  duty  to  devote  his  abilities  to  his  sovereign,  and  also 
necessary  for  him  to  earn  money,  because,  though  he  could  not 
excuse  himself  of  sloth  or  extravagance,  "  yet  my  health  is  not 
to  spend,  nor  my  course  to  get. "  Then  he  makes  that  remark- 
able declaration  which  further  explains  his  perpetual  need  of 
money:  "  I  confess  that  I  have  as  vast  contemplative  ends  as  I  have 
moderate  civil  ends;  for  I  have  taken  all  knowledge  to  be  my 
province.  This,  whether  it  be  curiosity  or  vainglory,  or,  if  one 
may  take  it  favorably,  philanthropia,  is  so  fixed  in  my  mind  that 
it  cannot  be  removed." 

That  the  biographer  should  have  thought  fit  to  use  such  an 
expression  as  "  careless  boy  "  in  regard  to  the  indefatigable 
philosopher,  "  the  most  prodigious  wit,"  who  in  childhood  had  a 
gravity  beyond  his  years,  and  who  at  thirty  felt  "  ancient, " 
speaks  volumes  as  to  the  impression  made  on  the  mind  of  a  sym- 
pathetic reader  by  the  various  small  particulars  which  shed  light 
on  the  gay  and  sprightly  side  of  Francis  Bacon's  many-sided 
character. 

In  the  letter  to  his  uncle  Bacon  goes  on  to  say,  "  I  do  easily 
see  that  place  of  any  reasonable  countenance  cloth  bring  com- 
mandment of  more  wits  than  a  man's  own,  which  is  the  thing  I 
greatly  affect. "  Here  is  a  reason,  the  only  reason,  why  he  desired 
to  gain  a  good  position  in  the  world.  With  place  and  wealth 
would  come  power  to  carry  out  his  vast  contemplative  ends. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  115 

Without  money  or  position  he  could  have  no  such  hope,  and  he 
adds,  "  If  your  lordship  will  not  carry  me  on,  I  will  not  do  as 
Anaxagoras  did,  who  reduced  himself  with  contemplation  unto 
voluntary  poverty;  hut  this  I  will  do:  I  will  sell  the  inheritance 
that  I  have,  and  purchase  some  lease  of  quick  revenue,  or  some 
office  of  gain  that  shall  be  executed  by  deputy,  and  so  give  over 
all  care  of  service,  and  become  some  sorry  book-maker,  or  a  true 
pioneer  in  that  mine  of  truth  which  he  said  lay  so  deep.  This 
which  I  have  writ  unto'  your  Lordship  is  rather  thoughts  than 
words,  being  set  down  without  art, 1  disguising,  or  reservation, 
wherein  I  have  done  honour,  both  to  your  Lordship's  wisdom,  in 
judging  that  that  will  best  be  believed  by  your  Lordship  which  is 
truest,  and  to  your  Lordship's  good  nature,  in  retaining  nothing 
from  you. " 

Bacon  wrote  this  letter  from  his  lodging  at  Gray's  Inn  at  the 
beginning  of  the  year  1592.  He  was  now  just  entering  his  thirty- 
second  year,  and,  on  the  surface,  little  had  appeared  of  his  real  • 
life  and  action.  But  still  waters  run  deep.  He  had  already 
accomplished  enough  to  have  filled  the  measure  of  a  dozen  ordi- 
nary lives,  and  apart  from  his  own  actual  writings  we  have  now 
abundant  evidence  to  show  how  his  vast  plans  for  universal  cult- 
ure and  reformation  were  spreading — more  abroad  than  at 
home,  but  everywhere,  manifesting  themselves  in  the  revival, 
the  "  renaissance  "  of  literature  and  science. 

The  rearing  of  the  new  "  Solomon's  House  "  was  begun.  Poor 
as  he  was,  almost  solitary  on  the  heights  of  thought,  but  yet  with 
many  willing  minds  struggling  to  approach  and  relieve  him,  he 
knew  with  prophetic  prescience  that  his  work  was  growing,  im- 
perishable, neither  "  subject  to  Time's  love  nor  to  Time's  hate." 

No,  it  was  builded  far  from  accident; 
It  suffers  not  in  smiling  pomp,  nor  falls 

Under  the  blow  of  thralled  discontent, 
Whereto  the  inviting  time  our  fashion  calls : 

It  feels  not  policy,  that  heretic, 
Which  works  on  leases  of  short-numbered  hours; 

But  all  alone  stands  hugely  politic.  2 

1  Spedding,  L.  L.,  i.  109.  Comp.  Hamlet,  ii..2, 95-99,  etc.  2  Sonnets  cxxiv,  cxxt. 


116  FRANCIS  BACON 

To  witness  this  he  calls  the  fools  of  time.  What  was  it  to  him  that 
he  had  "  borne  the  canopy,  with  his  externe  the  outward  honour- 
ing"? Whilst  living  thus  externally,  as  fortune  forced  him  to 
do,  as  mere  servant  to  greatness,  a  brilliant  but  reluctant  hanger- 
on  at  the  court,  he  was  meanwhile  collecting  materials,  digging 
the  foundations,  calling  in  helpers  to  "  lay  great  bases  for  eter- 
nity. " 


CHAPTER  V. 

PLAYWRIGHT  AND  POET-PHILOSOPHER. 

"Playing,  whose  end,  both  at  the  first  and  now,  was,  and  is,  to  hold,  as  'twere, 
the  mirror  up  to  nature;  to  show  virtue  her  own  feature,  scorn  her  own  image, 
and  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time  his  form  and  pressure." 

— Hamlet. 

ABOUT  the  year  1592  Bacon  wrote  a  device  entitled  The 
Conference  of  Pleasure. 1  It  was  evidently  prepared  for 
some  festive  occasion,  but  whether  or  not  it  was  ever  performed 
in  the  shape  in  which  it  is  seen  in  the  existing  manuscript,  is 
not  known. 

The  paper  hook  which  contained  this  device  bore  on  its  out- 
side leaf  a  list  of  its  original  contents,  hut  the  stitches  which 
fastened  the  sheets  together  have  given  way,  or  were  intention- 
ally severed,  and  the  central  pages  are  gone  —  a  great  loss, 
when  we  know  that  these  pages  included  copies  of  the  plays  of 
Richard  II.  and  Richard  III.,  of  which  it  would  have  been  inter- 
esting to  have  seen  the  manuscript. 

The  Conference  of  Pleasure  represents  four  friends  meeting 
for  intellectual  amusement,  when  each  in  turn  delivers  a  speech 
in  praise  of  whatever  he  holds  "  most  worthy."  This  explains 
the  not  very  significant  title  given  to  this  work  in  the  catalogue 
which  is  found  upon  the  fly-leaf  of  the  paper  book:  "  Mr.  Fr. 
Bacon  Of  Giving  Tribute,  or  that  which  is  due. " 

The  speeches  delivered  by  the  four  friends  are  described  as 
The  Praise  of  the  Worthiest  Virtue,  or  Fortitude,  "  The  Worthi- 
est Affection, " — Love ;  "  The  "Worthiest  Power, "—  Knowledge; 
and  the  fourth  and  last,  "The  Worthiest  Person."  This  is 
the  same  that  was  afterwards  printed  and  published  under 

l  This  device  was  edited  by  Mr.  Spedding  (1867)  from  the  manuscript,  which 
he  found  amongst  a  quantitv  of  paper  belonging  to  the  Duke  of  Northumberland. 

("7) 


118  FEANCIS  BACON 

the  title  of  "  Mr.  Bacon  in  Praise  of  his  Soveraigne."  It  bears 
many  points  of  resemblance  to  Cranmer's  speech  in  the  last 
scene  of  Henrg  VIII.,1  and  is  ostensibly  a  praise  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth. Covertly  it  is  a  praise  of  Bacon's  sovereign  lady,  the 
Crowned  Truth.  The  editor  of  the  Conference  observes,  as  so 
many  others  have  done,  that  there  is  in  the  style  of  this  piece  a 
certain  affectation  and  rhetorical  cadence,  traceable  in  Bacon's 
otber  compositions  of  this  kind,  and  agreeable  to  the  taste  of 
the  time.  He  does  not,  however,  follow  other  critics  in  saying 
that  tbis  courtly  affectation  was  Bacon's  style,  or  tbat  the 
fact  of  his  having  written  such  a  piece  is  sufficient  to  disprove 
him  the  author  of  other  compositions  written  more  naturally 
and  easily.  On  the  contrary,  be  describes  this  stilted  language  as 
so  alien  to  his  individual  taste  and  natural  manner,  tbat  there 
is  no  single  feature  by  wbich  his  own  style  is  more  specially  dis- 
tinguished, wherever  he  speaks  in  his  own  person,  wbether  form- 
ally or  familiarly,  whether  in  the  way  of  narrative,  argument, 
or  oration,  than  the  total  absence  of  it. " 

The  truth  is  that  the  style  of  Francis  Bacon  was  the  best 
method,  whatever  that  might  be,  for  conveying  to  men's  minds  the 
knowledge  or  ideas  which  he  was  desirous  of  imparting.  There 
should,  he  says,  be  "  a  diversity  of  methods  according  to  the 
subject  or  matter  which  is  handled. "  This  part  of  knowledge  of 
method  in  writing  he  considers  to  have  been  so  weakly  inquired 
into  as,  in  fact,  to  be  deficient.  He  explains  that  there  must  be, 
in  this  "  method  of  tradition, "  first  the  invention  or  idea  of  that 
which  is  to  be  imparted ;  next,  judgment  upon  the  thing  thought 
or  imagined,  and  lastly,  delivery,  or  imparting  of  the  tbougbt  or 
idea.  Then  he  shows  that  knowledge  is  not  only  for  present  use, 
but  also  for  its  own  advancement  and  increase.  With  regard 
especially  to  present  use,  he  points  out  that  there  are  times  and 
seasons  for  knowledges,  as  for  other  things.  How  to  begin,  to 
insinuate  knowledge,  and  how  to  refrain  from  seeming  to  attempt 
to  teach?    "  It  is  an  inquiry  of  great  wisdom,  what  kinds  of  wits 

l  Further  on  we  shall  have  occasion  to  show  how  in  many  of  Bacon's  poems, 
sonnets,  etc.,  where  "the  Queen"  is  praised,  the  allusion  is  ambiguous,  referring 
chiefly,  though  covertly,  to  Bacon's  Sovereign  Mistress,  Truth. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  119 

and  natures  are  most  apt  and  proper  for  moSt  sciences. "    He  is 
actually  speaking  of  the  use  of  mathematics  in  steadying  the 
mind,  "  if  a  child  be  bird-witted  and  hath  not  the  faculty  of 
attention ;  "  but  he  leads  this  argument  into  another  which  again 
brings  before  us  his  ideas  about  the  immense  importance  of  the 
stage.    "  It  is  not  amiss  to  observe,  also,  how  small  and  mean 
faculties,  gotten  by  education,  yet  when  they  fall  into  great  men 
and  great  matters,  do  work  great  and  important  effects;  whereof 
we  see  a  notable  example  in  Tacitus,  of  two  stage  players,  Per- 
cennius  and  Vibulenus,  who,  by  their  talent  for  acting,  put  the 
Pannonian  armies  into  extreme  tumult  and  combustion.     For, 
there  arising  a  mutiny  amongst  them  upon  the  death  of  Au- 
gustus Caesar,  Blaesas,  the  lieutenant,  had  committed  some  of 
the  mutineers,  which  were  suddenly  rescued ;  whereupon  Vibu- 
lenus got  to  be  heard  speak  —  {and  charged  Blcesas,  in  pathetic 
terms,  ivith  having  caused  his  brother  to  be  murdered)  —  with 
which  speech  he  put  the  army  into  an  infinite  fury  and  uproar; 
whereas,  truth  was,  he  had  no  brother,  neither  was  there  any  such 
matter;  but  he  played  it  merely  as  if  he  had  been  on  the  stage. " 
This  anecdote  is  partly  an  illustration  of  what  Bacon  has 
previously  been  saying,  that  the  duty  of  rhetoric  is  "  to  apply 
reason  to  imagination,  for  the  better  moving   of  the  will." 
Rhetoric,  therefore,  may  be  made  an  aid  to  the  morality  whose 
end  is  to  persuade  the  affections  and  passions  to  obey  reason. 
He  shows  that ''  the  vulgar  capacities  "  are  not  to  be  taught  by 
the  same  scientific  methods  which  are  useful  in  the  delivery  of 
knowledge  "  as  a  thread  to  be  spun  upon,  and  which  should,  if 
possible,  be  insinuated  "  in  the  same  method  wherein  it  was 
invented.    In  short,  matter,  and  not  words,  is  the  important 
thing;  for  words  are  the  images  of  cogitations,  and  proper 
thought  will  bring  proper  words.     It  may  in  some  cases  be  well 
to  speak  like  the  vulgar  and  think  like  the  wise.    This  was  an 
art  in  which  Bacon  himself  is  recorded  to  have  been  espe- 
cially skilful:  he  could  imitate  and  adopt  the  language  of  the 
person  with  whom  he  was  conversing  and  speak  in  any  style. 
If  so,  could  he  not  equally  well  ivrite  in  any  style  which  best 
suited  the  matter  in  hand,  which  would  most  readily  convey  his 


120  FEANCIS  BACON 

meaning  to  educated  or  uneducated  ears,  to  minds  prosaic  or 
poetical,  dull  in  spirit,  and  only  to  be  impressed  by  plain  and 
homely  words,  or  not  impressed  at  all,  except  the  words  were 
accompanied  by  gesture  and  action  as  if  the  speaker  were 
"  upon  the  stage  "  ? 

And  so  Bacon  was  "  content  to  tune  the  instruments  of  the 
muses,"  that  they  should  be  fit  to  give  out  melodies  and  har- 
monies of  any  pitch,  and  suited  to  every  frame  of  mind.  In  his 
acknowledged  writings  (which  seem  to  be  an  ingenious  map  of, 
or  clue  to,  his  whole  body  of  works)  we  find,  as  it  were, 
samples  of  many  and  varied  styles  of  writing  which  he  desires 
to  see  studied  and  more  perfectly  used;  and  although  in  his 
greatest  productions  he  has  built  up  a  noble  model  of  language 
which  the  least  observant  reader  must  recognise  as  Baconian, 
yet  there  are  amongst  his  writings  some  so  unlike  what  might 
be  expected  from  his  pen,  and  so  very  unlike  each  other,  as  to 
dispel  the  idea  that  his  many-sided  mind  required,  like  ordinary 
men,  merely  a  one-sided  language  and  #"  style  "  in  which  to 
utter  itself. 

The  manner  of  speaking  or  writing  which  pleases  him  best 
was  plain  and  simple,  "  a  method  as  wholesome  as  sweet." 
But,  just  as  in  the  poems  and  plays  which  we  attribute  to  him  the 
styles  are  so  various  as  to  raise  doubts,  not  only  of  the  identity 
of  the  author,  but  even  as  to  various  portions  of  the  same  work, 
so  the  style  of  writing  of  the  Gesta  Grayorum  or  the  Conference 
of  Pleasure  is  totally  unlike  the  New  Atlantis  or  the  Con- 
fession of  Faith.  Neither  is  there,  at  first  sight,  anything  which 
would  cause  the  casual  reader  to  identify  the  author  of  any  of 
these  with  the  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients,  or  Life's  a  Bubble,  or 
the  History  of  the  Winds,  or  the  Essay  of  Friendship,  or 
many  more  widely  different  works  or  portions  of  works  known 
to  have  been  written  by  Bacon.  Because  this  is  known,  no  one 
is  so  bold  or  so  foolish  as  to  point  to  the  immense  differences  in 
style  as  proof  that  one  man  could  not  have  written  all.  One  man 
did  write  them;  no  one  can  challenge  the  statement,  and  conse- 
quently no  question  has  arisen  about  this  particular  group  of 
works;  yet  they  differ  amongst  themselves  more  than,  individ- 


AND  HIS  SECBET  SOCIETY.  121 

ually,  they  differ  with  a  vast  number  of  works  not  yet  generally 
•  acknowledged  to  be  Bacon's.  They  differ  more  essentially  from 
each  other  than  do  the  works  of  many  dramatists  and  poets  of 
the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries.  Their  style  is  sometimes 
indistinguishable  from  treatises  by  various  "  authors."  In  short, 
nothing  but  a  complete  comparative  anatomy  of  Bacon's  writings 
at  different  periods  and  on  different  topics  would  enable  any 
one  (without  evidence  of  some  other  sort)  to  assert  of  every  work 
of  Bacon's  that  it  was  or  was  not  of  his  composition;  so  varied  is 
his  style. 

To  return  to  the  paper  book.  Besides  the  pieces  which  are 
still  contained  in  it,  eight  more  appear  to  have  formed  part  of 
the  contents  of  this  and  another  small  volume  of  the  same  kind, 
now  lost.  According  to  the  list  on  the  cover  the  lost  sheets 
should  contain: 

1.  The  conclusion  of  Leycester's  Commonwealth. 

2.  The  speeches  of  the  six  councillors  to  the  Prince  of  Pur- 
poole,  at  the  Gray's  Inn  Bevels,  1594.  The  exterior  sheet  of  the 
book  has  in  the  list,  Orations  at  Graijs  Inn  Bevels. 

3.  Something  of  Mr.  Frauncis  Bacon's  about  the  Queen's  Mats. 

4.  Essaies  by  the  same  author. 

5.  Richard  II.  The  editor  calls  these  "  Copies  of  Shakespeare's 
Plays. "    The  list  does  not  say  so. 

6.  Richard  III. 

7.  Asmuni  and  Cornelia  (a  piece  of  which  nothing  is  known). 

8.  A  play  called  The  Isle  of  Dojs.  The  induction  and  first  act 
of  this  play  are  said  to  have  been  written  by  Thomas  Nashe,  and 
the  rest  by  "  the  players. »  No  copy  has  been  found  of  The  Isle 
of  Dojs;  and  after  the  title  in  the  list  appears  the  abbreviated 
word  jrmntA 

In  a  line  beneath,  "  Thomas  Nashe,  inferior  plaies." 
It  is  curious  and  interesting  to  observe  the  pains  which  are 
taken  to  explain  away  the  simplest  and  most  patent  docu- 
mentary evidence  which  tends  to  prove  Bacon's  connection  with 
plays  or  poetry.    The  following  is  an  instance  :     Commenting 

i  This  seems  to  have  puzzled  the  editor,  but  caa  it  mean  more  or  less  thau 
*  JragmenX  '7 


1 22  FRA  NCIS  BA  CON 

upon  the  startling  but  undeniable  fact  of  the  two  Shakespeare 
plays  being  found  enumerated,  with  other  plays  not  known,  in  a 
list  of  Bacon's  works  amongst  his  papers,  the  careful  editor  pro- 
ceeds to  make  easy  things  difficult  by  explanation  and  com- 
mentary : 

"  That  Richard  II.  and  Richard  III.  are  meant  for  the  titles  of 
Shakespeare's  plays,  so  named,  I  infer  from  the  fact — of  which 
the  evidence  maybe  seen  in  the  facsimile — that,  the  list  of 
contents  being  now  complete,  the  writer  (or,  more  probably, 
another  into  wh  >se  possession  the  volume  passed)  has  amused 
himself  with  writing  down  promiscuously  the  names  and 
phrases  that  most  ran  in  his  head;  and  that  among  these  the 
name  of  William  Shakespeare  was  the  most  prominent,  being 
written  eight  or  nine  times  over  for  no  other  reason  that  can  be 
discerned.  That  the  name  of  Mr.  Frauncis  Bacon,  which  is  also 
repeated  several  times,  should  have  been  used  for  the  same 
kind  of  recreation,  requires  no  explanation.  ...  In  the  upper 
corner  .  .  .  may  be  seen  the  words  ne  vile  veils,  the  motto  of 
the  Nevilles,  twice  repeated,  and  there  are  other  traces  of  the 
name  of  Neville.  Other  exercises  of  the  same  kind  are  merely 
repetitions  of  the  titles  which  stand  opposite,  or  ordinary  words 
of  compliment,  familiar  in  the  beginnings  and  endings  of  let- 
ters, with  here  and  there  a  scrap  of  verse,  such  as : 

Revealing  day  through  every  cranio  peepes, 
"Or, 

Mtdtis  annis  jam  transactls, 
Nulla  fides  est  In  pactis, 
Mel  in  ore,  verba  lactis; 
Fell  In  corde,  firaus  in  factis. 

"  And  most  of  the  rest  appear  to  be  merely  exercises  in  writing 
th  or  sh;  .  .  .  but  the  only  thing,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  which 
requires  any  particular  notice  is  the  occurrence,  in  this  way,  of 
the  name  of  William  Shakespeare  ;  and  the  value  of  that  depends, 
in  a  great  degree,  upon  the  date  of  the  writing,  which,  I  fear, 
cannot  be  determined  with  any  approach  to  exactness.  All  I 
can  say  is  that  I  find  nothing  ...  to  indicate  a  date  later  than 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth;  and  if  so,  it  is  probably  one  of  the  ear- 
liest evidences  of  the  growth  of  Shakspere's  personal  fame  as 
a  dramatic  author,  the  beginning  of  which  cannot  be  dated 
much  earlier  than  1598.  It  was  not  till  1597  that  any  of  his 
plays  appeared  in  print ;  and  though  the  earliest  editions  of 
Richard  II,  Richard  III,  and  Romeo  and  Juliet  all  bear  that 
date,  his  name  is  not  on  the  title-page  of  any  of  them.  They 
were  set  forth  as  plays  which  had  been  'lately,'  or  'publicly,'  or 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  123 

'  often  with  great  applause/  acted  by  the  Lord  Chamberlain's 
servants.  Their  title  to  favour  was  their  popularity  as  acting 
plays  at  the  Globe;  and  it  was  not  till  they  came  to  be  read  as 
books  that  it  occurred  to  people  unconnected  with  the  theatre 
to  ask  who  wrote  them.  It  seems,  however,  that  curiosity  was 
speedily  and  effectually  excited  by  the  publication,  for  in  the 
very  next  year  a  second  edition  of  both  the  Richards  appeared, 
with  the  name  of  William  Shakespeare  on  the  title  page;  and 
the  practice  was  almost  invariably  followed  by  all  publishers  on 
like  occasions  afterwards.  We  may  conclude,  therefore,  that  it 
was  about  1597  that  play-goers  and  readers  of  plays  began  to 
talk  about  him,  and  that  his  name  would  naturally  present 
itself  to  an  idle  penman  in  want  of  something  to  use  his  pen 
upon.  What  other  inferences  will  be  drawn  from  its  appearance 
on  the  cover  of  this  manuscript  by  those  who  start  with  the 
conviction  that  Bacon,  and  not  Shakespeare,  was  the  real  author 
of  Richard  II.  and  Richard  III.,  I  cannot  say;  but  to  myself 
the  fact  which  I  have  mentioned  seems  quite  sufficient  to  account 
for  the  phenomenon. "  * 

The  phenomenon  does  not  seem  to  require  any  explanation. 
Everything  in  the  list,  excepting  the  plays,  is  known  to  be 
Bacon's.  Essays,  orations,  complimentary  speeches  for  festivals, 
letters  written  for,  and  in  the  names  of,  the  Earls  of  Arundel, 
Sussex,  and  Essex.  Only  the  plays  are  called  "  copies, "  because 
in  their  second  editions,  when  men  first  began  to  be  curious  as 
to  the  "  concealed  poet,"  and  Hayward,  or  some  other,  was  to 
be  "  racked  to  produce  the  author,"  the  name  Shakespeare  was 
printed  on  the  hitherto  anonymous  title-page.  The  practice 
was  so  common  at  that  date  as  to  cause  much  bewilderment 
and  confusion  to  the  literary  historian;  and  this  confusion  was, 
probably,  the  very  effect  which  that  cause  was  intended  to 
produce. 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  in  the  writing-case,  or  portfolio, 
which  belonged  to  Bacon  (and  which  is  in  the  possession  of 
the  Howard  family  at  Arundel)  a  sheet  is  found  similarly 
scribbled  over  with  the  name  William  Shakespeare.  Consider- 
ing the  amount  of  argument  which  has  been  expended  upon 
the  subject  of  the  scribbled  names  on  the  fly-leaf  of  the  Con- 
ference of  Pleasure,  it  would  appear  too  strange  for  credibility 

1  Introduction  to  the  Conference  of  Pleasure,  p.  xsiv. 


124  FRANCIS  BACON 

that  this  witness  of  Bacon's  own  portfolio  should  be  ignored, 
were  it  not  that  we  now  have  other  and  such  strong  proofs  of  a 
combination  to  suppress  particulars  of  this  kind. 

Besides  the  name  of  Shakespeare,  there  are,  on  the  outer  leaf 
of  the  manuscript  book,  some  other  curious  jottings  which  are  to 
our  point.  The  amanuensis,  or  whosoever  he  may  have  been,  who 
beguiled  an  hour  of  waiting  by  trying  his  pen,  scribbles,  with 
the  name  Sbakespeare,  some  allusions  to  other  plays  besides 
Richard  II.  and  Richard  III. 

Love's  Labour's  Lost  satirises  "the  diseases  of  style,"  and 
"  errors  and  vanities,"  which  Bacon  complains  were  intermixed 
with  the  studies  of  learned  men,  and  which  "  caused  learning 
itself  to  be  traduced."  The  utterances  of  Holofernes,  Na- 
thaniel, Biron,  and  Armado,  respectively,  illustrate  the  "  vain 
affections,  disputes,  and  imaginations,  the  effeminate  and  fantas- 
tical learning, "  which  infected  all  the  teaching  and  the  books 
of  the  period. 

Making  fun  of  the  pedantic  talk  of  Holofernes  and  his 
friends,  the  pert  page  Moth  declares  that  "  they  have  been 
at  a  feast  of  languages  and  stolen  the  scraps. " 

Costard  answers :  "  Oh  !  they  have  lived  long  on  the  alms- 
basket  of  words.  I  marvel  thy  master  hath  not  eaten  thee  for  a 
word;  for  thou  art  not  so  long  by  the  head  as  Honor ificabilitudi- 
nitatibus. " 

This  alarming  polysyllable  was  in  the  mind  of  the  amanuensis, 
though  his  memory  failed  before  he  got  through  the  thirteen 
articulations,  and  he  curtails  it  to  "  Honor  ificabilitudino."  yet 
cannot  we  doubt  that  this  amanuensis  had  seen  in  or  about  the 
year  1592  the  play  of  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  which  was  not  pub- 
lished or  acted  until  1598. 

The  scrap  of  English  verse,  in  like  manner,  shows  the  aman- 
uensis to  have  been  acquainted  with  the  poem  of  Lucrece,  pub- 
lished for  the  first  time  in  1594,  or  two  years  after  the  supposed 
date  of  the  scribble.  Writing  from  memory,  the  copyist  makes 
a  misquotation.    In  the  poem  is  the  line  : 

"  Rovealing  day  through  every  cranio  spies." 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  125 

But  he  .writes : 

"  Revealing  day  through  every  cranio  peepes." 

A  confusion,  doubtless,  between  this  line  and  one  which  fol- 
lows, where  the  word  peeping  is  used. 

In  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  v.  2,  the  whole  scene  turns  upon  the 
ideas  involved  in  the  Latin  lines  which  are  also  written  on  this 
communicative  fly-leaf : 

Mel  in  ore,  verba  lactis; 
Fell  in  corde,  fraus  in  factis. 

Biron's  way  of  talking  is,  throughout  the  sceue,  compared, 
for  its  ultra  suavity,  to  honey  and  milk : 

Birun.   White-handed  mistress,  one  sweet  word  with  you. 
Princess.   Honey  and  milk  and  sugar  —  there  are  three. 

After  a  quibble  or  two  on  Biron's  part,  the  Princess  begs 
that  the  word  which  he  wishes  to  have  with  her  may  not  be  sweet : 

Biron.   Thou  griev'st  my  gall. 
Princess.    Gall?  bitter. 

Presently,  in  the  same  scene,  the  affectations  of  another  young 
courtier  are  satirised,  and  he  is  called  "  Honey-tongued  Boyet." 
Perhaps  the  scribe  knew  from  whence  his  employer  derived  the 
metaphors  of  talk,  as  sweet,  honied,  sugared,  and  smoother  than 
milk,  and,  antithetically,  the  gall  of  Utter  words. 1 

There  are  many  proofs  that  Bacon  utilised  his  talents  by  writ- 
ing speeches  for  his  frieuds,  to  deliver  on  important  occasions, 
and  for  public  festivities. 

l  It  is  observable  that  the  name  Shakespeare  on  the  fly-leaf  of  the  Conference, 
though  written  some  dozen  times,  is  invariably  spelt  as  it  was  printed  on  the  title- 
pages  of  the  plays,  and  not  as  he,  or  any  of  his  family,  in  any  known  instance, 
wrote  it  during  his  lifetime.  The  family  of  Shakspero,  Shakspeyr,  Shakspurre, 
Shakespere,or  Shaxpeare  never  could  make  up  their  minds  how  to  spell  their 
names.  Perhaps  it  would  be  more  accurate  to  say  that  their  friends  never 
could  decide  for  them.  There  are  at  least  fourteen  different  spellings,  of  which 
Shaxpeare  is  the  most  frequent,  and  appears  sixty-nine  times  in  the  Stratford 
records.  It  seems  as  if  the  author  of  the  plays  must  have  made  some  compact 
with  the  family,  which  prevented  them  from  adopting,  till  long  after  Shaks- 
pere's  death,  the  spelling  of  the  pseudonym.  The  doctrine  of  chances,  one 
would  think,  must  have  caused  one  or  more  to  hit  upon  the  printed  variety,  in 
some  signature  or  register.  See,  for  excellent  information  on  this  matter, 
"  The  Shakespeare  Myth,"  p.  170,  etc. —  Appleton  Morgan. 


126  FRANCIS  BACON 

"  As  Essex  aspired  to  distinction  in  many  ways,  so  Bacon 
studied  many  ways  to  help  him,  among  the  rest  hy  contribut- 
ing to  those  fanciful  pageants  or  '  devices,'  as  they  were  called, 
with  which  it  was  the  fashion  of  the  time  to  entertain  the  Queen 
on  festive  occasions.  On  the  anniversary  of  her  coronation  in 
1595,  we  happen  to  know  positively  (though  only  hy  the  concur- 
rence of  two  accidents)  that  certain  speeches,  unquestionably 
written  by  Bacon,  were  delivered  in  a  device  presented  by  Essex; 
and  I  strongly  suspect  that  two  of  the  most  interesting  among 
his  smaller  pieces  were  drawn  up  for  some  similar  performance 
in  the  year  1592.  I  mean  those  which  are  entitled  "  Mr.  Bacon 
in  Praise  of  Knowledge,"  and  "  Mr.  Bacon's  Discourse  in  Praise 
of  his  Sovereign."  * 

"  My  reason  for  suspecting  they  were  composed  for  some 
masque,  or  show,  or  other  fictitious  occasion,  is  partly  that  the 
speech  in  praise  of  knowledge  professes  to  have  been  spoken  in  a 
Conference  of  Pleasure,  and  the  speech  in  praise  of  Elizabeth 
appears  by  the  opening  sentence  to  have  been  preceded  by  three 
others,  one  of  which  was  in  praise  of  knowledge. " 

The  writer  goes  on  to  say  that  he  has  little  doubt  about  this 
device  having  been  written  by  Bacon  for  performance  on  the 
Queen's  day,  though,  unfortunately,  no  detailed  account  remains 
of  the  celebration  of  that  day  in  1592 ;  we  only  know  that  it  was 
"  more  solemnised  than  ever,  and  that  through  my  Lord  of  Essex 
Ms  device.  "2  The  reporter  Nicholas  Faimt,  "  being  a  strict  Puri- 
tan, and  having  no  taste  for  devices, "  adds  nb  particulars,  but 
an  incidental  expression  in  a  letter  from  Henry  Gosnold,  a  young 
lawyer  in  Gray's  Inn,  tells  us  that  Francis  was  at  this  time 
attending  the  court: — "  Mr.  Fr.  Bacon  is,mau1gre  the  court,  your 
kind  brother  and  mine  especial  friend. " 

The  Praise  of  Knowledge,  which  sums  up  many  of  Bacon's 
most  daring  philosophical  speculations,  as  to  the  revival,  spread, 

1  These  were  found  among  the  papers  submitted  to  Stephens  by  Lord  Oxford, 
and  printed  by  Locker  in  the  supplement  to  his  second  collection  in  1734.  The 
MSS.  are  still  to  be  seen  in  the  British  Museum,  fair  copies  in  an  old  hand, 
with  the  titles  given  above,  but  no  further  explanation. 

2  Nich.  Faunt  to  A.  Bacon,  Nov.  20,  1592— Lambeth  MSS.  648,  176. 


AND  MIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  127 

and  ultimate  catholicity  of  learning,  —  the  happy  match  which 
shall  be  made  between  the  mind  of  man  and  the  nature  of  things, 
and  the  ultimate  "  mingling  of  heaven  and  earth,"— is  printed 
in  Spedding's  Letters  and  Life  of  Bacon,1  and  should  be  read 
and  considered  by  all  who  care  to  understand  what  Dr.  Eawley 
describes  as  certain  "  grounds  and  notions  within  himself,"  or, 
as  it  is  elsewhere  said,  "  fixed  and  universal  ideas  "  which  came 
to  him  in  his  youth,  and  abode  with  him  to  the  end  of  his  life. 

This  speech  is  succeeded  by  the  far  longer  Discourse  in  Praise 
of  the  Queen — "  an  oration  which  for  spirit,  eloquence,  and  sub- 
stantial worth  may  bear  a  comparison  with  the  greatest  pane- 
gyrical orations  of  modern  times. "  2  The  biographer  explains 
that,  although  this  oration  seems  too  long  and  elaborate  to  have 
been  used  as  part  of  a  court  entertainment,  yet  it  might  hare 
been  (and  probably  was)  worked  upon  and  enlarged  afterwards, 
and  that  the  circumstances  under  which  it  was  delivered  caused 
it  to  be  received  as  something  of  much  greater  importance  than 
a  mere  court  compliment. 

Probably  no  one  who  has  read  the  life  and  works  of  Bacon  is 
so  foolish  and  unsympathetic  as  to  believe  that  such  a  man,  in 
exalting  the  theatre,  writing  for  it,  interesting  others  in  its 
behalf,  had  no  higher  aim  than  to  amuse  himself  and  his  friends, 
still  less  to  profit  by  it,  or  even  to  make  himself  a  name  as  a 
mere  playwright. 

Considering  merely  the  position  which  he  held  as  a  man  of 
letters  and  a  philosopher,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  that  for 
such  purposes  he  would  have  risked  his  reputation  and  pros- 
pects—running in  the  face  of  public  opinion,  which  was  strong 
against  stage-playing,  and  risking  the  displeasure  of  most  of  the 
members  of  his  own  Puritan  family,  some  of  whom  would  surely 
hear  reports  of  what  he  was  doing. 


1  i.  123-126. 

2  See  the  remarks  in  Spedding,  Letters  and  Life,  i.  143,  on  this  piece.  The 
editor  shows  its  fitness  for  the  occasion  when  it  was  delivered.  Yet  we  are 
convinced  that  it  had  a  second  and  still  more  important  aim  than  that  which  at 
first  sight  appears.  There  was  no  need  to  answer  an  invective  against  the  Govern- 
ment, when  Bacon  ordered  the  printing  and  publication  of  'this  speech  to  be 
done  after  his  death. 


12S  FRANCIS  BACON 

In  1594  Anthony  Bacon,  that  "  dearest  brother, "  "  Antonie 
my  comforte, "  had  lately  returned  from  Italy  and  had  joined 
Francis  in  Gray's  Inu;  but  he  did  not  stay  there  long.  Soon 
afterwards,  to  the  alarm  and  displeasure  of  his  mother,  Lady 
Anne,  he  removed  from  these  lodgings  to  a  house  in  Bishop's  Gate 
Street,  close  to  the  Bull  Inn.  Here  there  was  a  theatre  at  which 
several  of  the  Shakespeare  plays  were  performed,  and  from  this 
date  the  plays  of  Shakespeare,  Ben  Jonson  and  "  twenty  more 
such  names  and  men  as  these  "  pour  on  to  the  stages  of  this  and 
other  theatres.  What  share  had  Anthony  in  the  writing  and 
"  producing  "  of  these  plays? 

The  Christmas  revels  in  which  the  students  of  Gray's  Inn  had 
formerly  prided  themselves  were  for  some  cause  intermitted  for 
three  of  four  years.  In  the  winter  of  1594  they  resolved  to  re- 
deem the  time  by  producing  "  something  out  of  the  common 
way."  As  usual,  Francis  Bacon  is  called  in  to  assist  in  "  recov- 
ering the  lost  honour  of  Gray's  Inn. "  The  result  was  a  device, 
or  elaborate  burlesque,  which  turned  Gray's  Inn  into  a  mimic 
court  for  which  a  Prince  of  Purpoole  and  a  Master  of  the  Revels 
were  chosen,  and  the  sports  were  to  last  for  twelve  days. 

The  Prince,  with  all  his  state,  proceeded  to  the  Great  Hall  of 
Gray's  Inn  on  December  20th,  and  the  entertainment  was  so 
gorgeous,  so  skilfully  managed,  and  so  hit  off  the  tastes  of  the 
times,  that  the  players  were  encouraged  to  enlarge  their  plan, 
and  to  raise  their  style.  They  resolved,  therefore  (besides  all 
this  court  pomp,  and  their  daily  sport  amongst  themselves),  to 
have  certain  "  grand  nights, "in which  something  special  should 
be  performed  for  the  entertainment  of  strangers.  But  the  ex- 
citement produced  on  the  first  grand  night,  and  the  throng, 
which  was  beyond  everything  which  had  been  expected) 
crowded  the  hall  so  that  the  actors  were  driven  from  the  stage. 
They  had  to  retire,  and  when  the  tumult  partly  subsided,  they 
were  obliged,  in  default  of  "  those  very  good  inventions  and 
conceits  "  which  had  been  intended,  to  content  themselves  with 
dancing  and  revelling,  and  when  that  was  over,  with  A  Comedy 
of  Errors,  like  to  Plautus  his  Menoechmus,  which  was  played  by 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  129 

the  players.  As  this  was,  accordiug  to  Dr.  Delius,  the  first  allu- 
sion to  the  Comedy  of  Errors — in  other  words,  since  this  comedy 
was,  for  the  first  time,  heard  of  and  acted  in  Gray's  Inn,  at  the 
revels  of  December,  1594 — we  may  well  suppose  that  this  play 
was  the  very  "  invention  and  conceit  "  arranged  by  Francis 
Bacon  for  the  occasion;  and  that,  whilst  the  dancing  went  on, 
he  took  the  opportunity  of  getting  things  set  straight  which 
were  disordered  by  the  unexpected  throng  of  guests,  after 
which  the  comedy  was  "  played  by  the  players, "  according  to 
the  original  plan.     This  was  on  December  28th. 

The  next  night  was  taken  up  with  a  mock-legal  inquiry  into 
the  causes  of  these  disorders,  and  after  this,  (which  was  a  broad 
parody  upon  the  administration  of  justice  by  the  Crown  in  Coun- 
cil), they  held  a  grand  consultation  for  the  recovery  of  their  lost 
honour,  which  ended  in  a  resolution  "  that  the  Prince's  Council 
should  be  reformed,  and  some  graver  conceits  should  have  their 
places. "  Again  Bacon  is  to  the  front,  and  it  is  a  striking  proof 
of  the  rapidity  with  which  he  was  able  to  devise  and  accomplish 
any  new  thing,  that  in  four  or  five  days  he  had  written  and 
"  produced  "  an  entertainment  which  is  described  as  "  one  of  the 
most  elegant  that  was  ever  presented  to  an  audience  of  states- 
men and  courtiers. "  It  was  performed  on  Friday,  January  3, 
1595,  and  was  called  The  Order  of  the  Helmet.  This  entertain- 
ment (which  is  in  many  ways  suggestive  of  the  Masonic  cere- 
monies) includes  nineteen  articles,  which  the  knights  of  the 
order  vowed  to  keep;  they  are  written  in  Bacon's  playful, 
satirical  style,  and  full  from  beginning  to  end  of  his  ideas, 
theories,  doctrines,  antitheta,  allusions,  and  metaphors.  To 
these  follow  seven  speeches.  The  first,  by  the  Prince  of  Pur- 
pool  e,  gives  a  sly  hit  at  other  princes,  who,  like  Prince  Hal, 
"conclude  their  own  ends  out  of  their  own  humours,"  and 
abuse  the  wisdom  of  their  counsellors  to  set  them  in  the  right 
way  to  the  torong  place.  The  prince  gives  his  subjects  free  leave 
to  set  before  us  "  to  what  port,  as  it  were,  the  ship  of  our  govern- 
ment should  be  bounden. " 

"  The  first  counsellor, "  then  evidently  having  Bacon's  notes 


130  FRANCIS  BACON 

on  the  subject  ready  to  hand,1  delivers  a  speech,  "  advising  the 
exercise  of  war;  "  the  second  counsellor  extols  the  study  of 
philosophy.  This  counsellor  is  very  well  read  iu  Shakespeare. 
He  describes  ivitches,  tohose  power  is  in  destruction,  not  in  preser- 
vation, 2  and  advises  the  Prince  not  to  be  like  them  or  like  some 
comet  or  blazing  star3  which  should  threaten  and  portend  nothing 
but  death  and  dearth,  combustions  and  troubles  of  the  world.  He 
begs  hirn  to  be  not  as  a  lamp  that  shiueth  not  to  others,  and  yet 
seeth  not  itself,  but  as  the  eye  of  the  world,  that  both  carrieth 
and  useth  light.  To  this  purpose  he  commends  to  him  the  col- 
lecting of  a  perfect  library  of  books,  ancient  and  modern,  and  of 
MSS.  in  all  languages;  of  a  spacious,  wonderful  garden  (botanic 
and  zoological  gardens  in  one),  "  built  about  with  rooms  to 
stable  all  rare  beasts  and  to  cage  all  rare  birds, "  and  with  lakes, 
salt  and  fresh,  "  for  like  variety  of  fishes.  And  so  you  may  have 
in  small  compass  a  model  of  universal  nature  made  private. "4 
Thirdly,  he  proposes  "  a  goodly  huge  cabinet,"  a  museum  of  all 
the  rarities  and  treasures  of  nature  and  art,  wherein  shall  be 
collected  "  whatsoever  singularity  chance  aud  the  shuffle  of 
things  hath  produced."  The  fourth  "  monument  "  which  is  to 
perpetuate  the  fame  of  the  Prince  is  to  be  "  so  furnished  with 
mills,  instruments,  furnaces,  and  vessels  as  may  be  a  palace  fit 
for  a  philosopher's  stone."  Laboratories  for  experimental 
science  are  here  indicated;  they  are,  we  see,  the  same  as  are 
more  fully  described  in  the  Rosicrucian  journey,  New  Atlantis, 
and  it  appears  probable  that  they  expressed  in  the  device,  as  in  the 
Rosicrucian  document,  a  meaning  and  aim  which  tended  to  unite 
the  works  of  Vulcan  (art)  with  those  of  Minerva  (wisdom  or 
nature).5 


1  See  Speckling — Military  arts  compatible  with  learning,  iii.  2G9  ;  promoted 
by  it,  iii.  307-314 ;  when  just,  successful,  iv.  28,  29;  warlike  disposition  the 
strength  of  a  nation,  v.  81;  injured  by  the  sedentary  arts,  v.  84;  healthful, 
x.  83  ;  the  history  of  war,  proposed,  as  deficient,  iv.  270. 

2  See  Macb.  i.  3,  18-29;    iii.  5,  24-34;   iv.   1,  48-00. 

3  Jul.  CfflS.  ii.  2,  25-30.    All's  W.  i.  3,  81-85.     Macb.  ii.  3,  55-60. 

4  "  A  small  model  of  the  barren  earth."    Eichard  II.  iii.  2. 

5  See  Essay  of  Erichthonius.    Spedding,  "Works,  vi.  736. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  131 

Then  follows  the  third  counsellor,  advising  eternize  went  and 
fame  by  buildings  and  foundations.    This  speech  is  written  with 
the  same  metaphors  and  emblems  which  we  find  elsewhere  in 
Bacon's  acknowledged  works  and  in  the  documents  of  the 
Eosicrucians  and  Freemasons.    Wars,  it  is  agreed,  often  offer 
immoderate  hopes  which  issue  only  in  tragedies  of  calamities 
and  distresses.    Philosophies  equally  disappoint  expectation, 
by  turning  mystical   philosophy  into   comedies  of  ridiculous 
frustration,  conceits  and  curiosities.    But  the  day  for  a  monarch 
to  "  win  fame  and  eternize  his  name  "  is  "  in  the  visible  memory 
of  himself  in  the  magnificence  of  goodly  and  royal  buildings 
and  foundations,  and  the  new  institution  of  orders,  ordinances,  and 
societies;  that  as  your  coin  be  stamped  with  your  own  image,  so 
in  every  part  of  vour  state  there  may  be  something  new,  which, 
by  continuance,  may  make  the  founder  and  author  remem- 
bered."1   The  desire  "  to  cure  mortality  by  fame  "  "  caused  men 
to  build  the  Tower  of  Babel,  which,  as  it  was  a  sin  in  the  im- 
moderate appetite  for  fame,  so  it  was  punished  in  kind;  for  the 
diversities  of  languages  have  imprisoned  fame  ever  since. »    He 
goes  on  to  show  that  the  fame  of  Alexander,  Caesar,  Constantme, 
and  Trajan  was  thought  by  themselves  to  rest  not  so  much  upon 
their  conquests  as  in  their  buildings.    "  And  surely  they  had 
reason;  for  the  fame  of  great  actions  is  like  to  a  landflood  which 
hath  no  certain  head  or  spring;  but  the  memory  and  fame  of 
buildings  and  foundations  hath,  as  it  were,  a  fountain  m  a  lull 
which  continually  refresheth  andfeedcth  the  other  waters."  * 

The  fourth  counsellor  advises  absoluteness  of  state  and 
treasure.  His  speech  will  be  found  paraphrased  and  more 
gravely  and  earnestly  traced  in  Bacon's  essays  of  Empire  and  of 
The  Greatness  of  Kingdoms,  and  in  other  places  which  deal  with 
similar  subjects. 

The  fifth  counsellor  advises  the  Prince  to  virtue  and  a  gra- 
cious government.    If  he  would  "  make  golden  times  "  he  must  be 


1  This  passage  aptly  describes  the  principle  upon  which  Bacon  established 
his  or£»fi  societies.     See  chapters  of  the  Eosicrucians  and  Freemasons. 

2  See  Emblems— Hill,  Water,  etc. 


132  FRANCIS  BACON 

"  a  natural  parent  to  the  state. "  The  former  speakers  have,  says 
this  counsellor,  handled  their  own  propositions  too  formally. 
"  My  Lords  have  taught  you  to  refej*  all  things  to  yourself,  your 
greatness,  memory,  and  advantage,  but  whereunto  shall  yourself 
he  referred  ?  If  you  will  he  heavenly,  you  must  have  influence. 
Will  you  be  as  a  standing  pool,  that  spendeth  and  choketh  his 
spring  within  itself,  and  hath  no  streams  nor  current  to  bless  and 
make  fruitful  ivhole  tracts  of  countries  whereby  it  cometh  f  .  .  - . 
Assure  yourself  of  an  inward  peace,  that  the  storms  without  do 
not  disturb  any  of  your  repairs  within;  .  .  .  visit  all  the  parts  of 
your  state,  and  let  the  balm  distill  everywhere  from  your  sovereign 
hands,  to  the  medicining  of  any  part  that  complaincth;  .  .  .  have 
a  care  that  your  intelligence,  which  is  the  light  of  your  state,  do  not 
bum  dim;  .  .  .  advance  men  of  virtue,  not  of  mercenary  minds; 
.  .  .  purge  out  multiplicity  of  laws;  .  .  .  repeal  those  that  are 
snaring,  and  press  the  execution  of  those  that  are  tvholesome  and 
necessary;  .  .  .  think  not  that  the  bridle  and  spur  will  make  the 
horse  go  alone  without  time  and  custom;  .  .  .  when  you  have 
confirmed  the  noble  and  vital  parts  of  your  realm  of  state,  proceed 
to  take  care  of  the  blood,  and  flesh,  and  good  habit  of  the  body. 
Eemedy  all  cankers  and  causes  of  consumption. " 1  The  speaker 
ends  by  saying  that,  if  he  wished  to  commend  the  beauty  of 
some  excelling  lady,  he  could  best  do  it  by  showing  her  picture; 
so  it  is  in  commending  a  virtuous  government,  though  he  fears 
that  his  "pencil  may  disgrace  it,"  and  therefore  leaves  the 
prince  to  fill  in  the  picture  for  himself. 

He  is  succeeded  by  the  sixth  and  last  counsellor,  who 
"  persuades  to  pastimes  and  sports. "  The  speeches  of  his 
predecessors  were,  he  thought,  "  as  if  a  man  should  come  to 
some  young  prince,  and,  immediately  after  his  coronation,  be  in 
hand  with  him  to  make  himself  a  sumptuous  and  stately  tomb, 
and,  to  speak  out  of  my  soul,  I  muse  how  any  of  your  servants 
can  endure  to  think  of  you  as  of  a  prince  past ;  .  .  .  their  lessons 
were  so  cumbersome,  as  if  they  would  make  you  a  king  in  a  play, 
who,  when  one  would  think  he  standeth  in  great  majesty  and 

1  Compare  Emblems  and  Metaphors  of  Bacon. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  133 

felicity,  he  is  troubled  to  say  his  part.  What!  nothing  but  tasks; 
nothing  but  ivorking  days  ?  No  feasting,  no  music,  no  dancing, 
no  triumphs,  no  comedies,  no  love,  no  ladies  t.  Lei  other  men's 
lives  be  as  pilgrimages;  .  .  .  princes1  lives  are,  as  progresses, 
dedicated  only  to  variety  and  solace." 

(Again  an  echo  of  the  speeches  of  Theseus  and  Philostra- 
tus  in  A  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream,  quoted  before.1) 

This  lively  counsellor  entreats  his  prince  to  leave  the  work  to 
other  people,  and  to  attend  only  to  that  which  cannot  he  done 
by  deputy.  "  Use  the  advantage  of  your  youth;  .  .  .  in  a 
word,  sweet  sovereign,  dismiss  your  five  counsellors,  and  only  take 
counsel  of  your  five  senses." 

The  prince  briefly  thanks  them  all  for  their  good  opinions, 
which  being  so  various,  it  is  difficult  to  choose  between  them. 
"  Meantime  it  should  not  be  amiss  to  choose  the  last,  and  upon 
more  deliberation  to  determine  of  the  rest;  and  what  time  we 
spend  in  long  consulting,  in  the  end  we  gain  by  prompt  and 
speedy  executing."  Thereupon  he  takes  a  partner,  and  the 
dance  begins.  The  rest  of  the  night  was  spent  in  this  pastime, 
and  the  nobles  and  other  auditory,  says  the  narrator,  were  so 
delighted  with  their  entertainment,  that  "  thereby  Gray's  Inn 
did  not  only  recover  their  lost  credit,  but  got  instead  so  much 
honour  and  applause  as  either  the  good  reports  of  our  friends 
that  were  present  or  we  ourselves  could  desire. " 

In  this  same  year,  1595,  Lucrece  was  published,  and  dedicated, 
as  the  poem  of  Venus  and  Adonis  had  been  also  dedicated  in 
1593,  to  Francis  Bacon's  young  friend,  Lord  Southampton,  who 
is  said  to  have  given  a  large  sum  of  money  toward  the  erection 
of  the  "  Globe "  theatre,  which  was  in  this  year  opened  on 
Bankside  with  William  Shakspere  as  its  manager.2 

Until  Anthony  Bacon's  return  from  Italy  Francis  was 
very  poor,  and  often  in  debt,  and,  although  he  lived  frugally 


1  See  Mid.  N.  Dream,  v.  1,  and  Kich.  II.  iii.  4.    L.  L.  L.  iv.  3,  370-380,  etc. 

2  This  gift  was  held  by  Shakspereans  to  be  an  evidence  of  Southampton^ 
friendship  for  Shakspere.  Baconians  see  in  it  an  evidence  of  the  young  bar!  s 
desire  to  assist  in  the  production  of  the  dramatic  works  of  his  friend  and  asso- 


ciate, Francis  Bacon. 


134  FBANCIS  BACON 

and  temperately,  he  was  at  one  time  forced  to  get  help  from  the 
Jews.  Though  Anthony  was  hetter  off  and  able  to  help  him, 
Francis  could  hardly  contrive  to  live  as  a  gentleman  and  at  the 
same  time  to  publish  and  carry  forward  scientific  researches  as  we 
find  him  doing.  Anthony  was  performing  the  part  of  secretary 
to  the  Earl  of  Essex,  a  work  in  which  his  brother  shared,  Anthony 
writing  his  letters  and  drafting  his  despatches  to  secret  agents 
in  foreign  lands ;  Francis  aiding  him  in  getting  information,  and 
in  steering  his  course  through  the  shifting  sands  of  the  political 
stream.  He  drew  up  for  Essex  that  remarkable  paper  on  his 
conduct  at  court,  which  should  have  been  the  rule,  and  would 
certainly  have  been  the  salvation,  of  his  life.1  These  services, 
occasional  on  the  part  of  Francis,  daily  on  the  part  of  Anthony, 
led  them  into  expenses  which  they  ought  to  have  been  repaid. 
No  salary  had  been  fixed  for  Francis,  but  Anthony  was  to  have 
received  a  thousand  pounds  a  year,  none  of  which  was  ever 
paid  him.2  It  was  probably  on  account  of  the  large  outstanding 
debt  to  the  brothers  that  Essex  sued  to  the  Queen  for  the  places 
of  Solicitor-General  or  Attorney-General  for  Francis  Bacon.  It  is 
probable  that,  had  it  not  been  for  his  interference,  Bacon  would  at 
this  time  have  been  appointed  to  the  former  of  these  offices.  But 
the  injudicious  and  arrogant  behaviour  of  Essex,  which  was  a 
constant  subject  of  remonstrance  from  Bacon,  now  again  de- 
stroyed Bacon's  hopes  of  obtaining  a  substantial  position  and 
means  of  livelihood.  The  Queen  would  not  be  driven,  nor  sus- 
pected of  bestowing  offices  at  the  bidding  of  her  fascinating  but 
troublesome  kinsman.  Bacon  was  again  passed  over,  and  re- 
tired much  hurt,  and  feeling  disgraced  in  the  eyes  of  the  world, 
to  Twickenham,  where,  perhaps,  he  employed  himself  in  writ- 
ing some  of  his  comedies.  For  in  consequence,  perhaps,  of  this 
episode,  or  in  part  payment  of  his  large  debt  to  the  brothers,  Essex 
granted  Francis  a  piece  of  land  worth  about  £1,800,  adjoining 
the  estate  of  his  half-brother,  Edward  Bacon,  at  Twickenham. 

i  Hepworth  Dixon,  Story,  p.  53.  Ath.  Cant.  ii.  315.  Devereux,  Lives  of 
the  Earls  of  Essex,  i.  277.     Sydney  Papers,  i.  360. 

2  It  is  very  probable  in  view  of  the  Rosicrucian  rules,  which  we  shall  con- 
sider further  on,  that  the  Bacons  would  not  be  paid  for  this  work. 


AND  HIS  SECEET  SOCIETY.  135 

To  this  year,  when  Bacon  was  in  retirement  at  Twickenham, 
The  Merchant  of  Venice,  and  A  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream  are 
attributed.  In  the  first  of  these  "  the  hard  Jew  "  who  persecuted 
Francis  Bacon  is  immortalised  in  the  person  of  Shylock,  whilst; 
in  Antonio  we  recognise  the  generous  brother,  Anthony 
Bacon,  who  sacrificed  himself  and  "  taxed  his  credit  "  in  order 
to  relieve  Francis.  1 

A  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream  is  the  first  piece  in  which  Bacon, 
whilst  creating  his  fairies  from  "  the  vital  spirits  of  nature, " 
brings  his  studies  of  the  winds  to  his  help.2  This  play, 
as  has  been  said,  bears  points  of  strong  resemblance  to  the 
Device  of  an  Indian  Prince,  which  Bacon  had  written  a  few 
months  previously,  when  the  stormy  passages  between  the 
Queen  and  Essex  had  passed  away,  and  when  the  Earl  had  ap- 
parently applied  to  him  for  a  device  which  should  be  performed 
on  the  "  Queen's  Day." 

January  27,  1595,  is  the  latest  date  on  any  sheet  in  Bacon's 
Promus  of  Formularies  and  Elegancies.  Judged  by  the  hand- 
writing, it  appears  to  be  the  latest  sheet,  although  it  is  not 
placed  last  in  the  collection  of  MSS.  One  entry  is  sug- 
gestive3 —  "Law  at  Twickenham  for  ye  merry  tales."  The 
merry  tales  for  which  Bacon  was  thus  preparing  Law,  are  sup- 
posed to  be  those  already  named,  with  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew, 
King  John,  two  parts  of  Henry  IV.  and  AWs  Well  that  Ends  Well, 
soon  to  appear,  and  full  of  abstruse  points  of  law,  such  as  after- 
wards exercised  the  mind  of  Lord  Campbell.  The  play  of 
Richard  III.  is  attributed  to  1591  by  Dr.  Delius,  but  the  list  of 
Bacon's  MSS.  on  the  outside  leaf  of  the  Conference  of  Pleas- 
ure seems  to  show  that  Richard  II.  and  III.  were  sketched  to- 
gether, though  apparently  the  former  was  not  heard  of  till  the 
year  1596. 

Very  little  is  known  for  some  years  of  the  private  proceedings 
of  Bacon.    He  had  no  public  business  of  importance,  and  it  is 

1  Note,  Antonio,  in  Tu-elfth  Night,  is  another  impersonation  of  the  same  gen- 
erous and  unselfish  character. 

2  See  Of  Vital  Spirits  of  Nature. 

3  Promus,  1165.    The  Promus  is  a  MS.  collection  of  Bacon's  private  notes. 


136  FRANCIS  BACON 

evident  that  the  published  records  of  his  work  are  not  by  any 
means  adequate.  With  his  tremendous  energy  and  powers,  the 
scanty  iuformation  couceruiug  him  assures  us  that  at  this  time 
lie  was  either  travelling  or  most  busy  upon  his  secret  and  unac- 
knowledged works.  Iu  1596-7  he  wrote  the  Colours  of  Good 
and  Evil,  and  the  Meditat tones  Sacra,  for  which  preparations 
are  found  amongst  the  Promus  notes ;  a  speech  in  Parliament 
against  enclosures,  and  a  general  statement  that  he  continued 
his  scientific  studies,  are  all  that  is  recorded  as  to  his  labours  at 
that  time.  No  doubt,  however,  that,  amongst  other  matters,  he 
was  preparing  tbe  first  edition  of  his  essays,  which  were  pub- 
lished in  the  following  year  (with  a  dedication  "  to  Mr.  Anthony 
Bacon,  his  deare  brother,  you  that  are  next  myself'').  Money 
troubles  still  continued,  which  may  be  explained  in  the  same 
manner  as  before.  All  his  money,  and  Anthony's  as  well,  was 
going  in  the  expense  of  publishing,  in  getting  up  plays,  and  in 
other  enterprises  connected  with  his  great  schemes. 

In  a  letter  of  October  15,  1597,  written  to  the  Earl  of  Shrews- 
bury from  Gray's  Inn,  Francis  Bacon  requests  the  loan  of  a 
horse  and  armour  for  some  public  show.  In  another  letter  to 
Lord  Mountjoy,  he  says  that  "  it  is  now  his  manner  and  rule  to 
keep  state  in  contemplative  matters."  Clearly  much  trouble 
was  taken  to  obscure  his  history  and  his  private  proceedings 
about  this  period. 

In  letters  to  Sir  Tobie  Matthew,1  with  dates  and  other  partic- 
ulars mysteriously  obliterated  or  garbled,  Bacou,  whilst  alluding 
by  name  to  several  of  his  acknowledged  works,  which  Sir  Tobie 
had  been  reading  and  criticising,  speaks  (without  naming  them) 
of  his  "  other  works, "  "works  of  his  recreation."  Elsewhere 
he  refers  to  other  works,  but  does  not  specify  them.     They  are 


l  Sir  Tobie  Matthew,  son  of  the  Bishop  of  Durham,  afterwards  Archbishop 
of  York,  was  an  early  friend  of  Bacon,  and  one  whom  he  calls  his  "kind  in- 
quisitor," since  he  was  in  the  habit  of  sending  his  works  for  Matthew's  perusal 
and  criticism.  A  collection  of  his  letters  (London,  1660)  is  extant.  These 
letters  are  without  dates.  Tobie  Matthew  appears  to  have  purposely  obliterated 
or  disguised  names  and  particulars.  If  the  "  headings  were  inserted  by  him- 
self, he  had  either  forgotten  the  dates  or  intended  to  confuse  and  conceal 
them."    (Spedding,  Letters  and  Life,  iv.  132.) 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  137 

"  deeds  -without  a  name, "  which,  in  this  correspondence,  are  re- 
ferred to  as  the  Alphabet,  a  pass- word,  perhaps,  for  his  Trage- 
dies and  Comedies,  since,  in  his  private  notes,  or  Promus,  there 
is  this  entry  (before  1594) : 

"  Iisdem,  e1  Uteris  efficitur  tragcedia  et  comedia." 

"  Tragedies  and  comedies  are  made  of  one  alphabet." 

In  1598  the  Queen,  who  had  again  quarrelled  with  Essex,  was 
greatly  offended  by  the  play  of  Richard  II.,  which  plainly 
alluded  to  the  troubles  in  Ireland,  with  which  he  was  concerned. 
Not  ouly  had  this  new  play  drawn  crowds  of  courtiers  and  cit- 
izens to  the  Globe  Theatre,  when  first  it  appeared,  but  it  had  a 
long  and  splendid  run,  being  played  not  only  in  the  theatre, 
but  in  the  open  street  and  in  the  court-yards  of  inns.  The 
Earl  of  Essex  (who,  before  his  voyage,  had  been  a  constant 
auditor  at  the  Globe)  lent  the  play  his  countenance;  it  is  even 
said  that  he  ordered  it  to  be  played  at  his  own  expense,  when 
Phillips,  the  manager,  declared  that  the  piece  had  been  so  long 
before  the  public  that  another  performance  could  not  pay.  No 
wonder,  then,  that  the  Queen  was  angry  and  disturbed  by  this 
play,  which,  she  thought,  was  part  of  a  plot  to  teach  her  sub- 
jects how  to  murder  kings.  "  I  am  Richard, "  she  said;  "  know 
you  not  that?" 

A  pamphlet  by  a  young  doctor  of  civil  law,  John  Hayward, 
published  almost  simultaneously  with  the  play,  increased  the 
Queen's  wrath  and  apprehension.  Taking  as  its  basis  the  story 
of  the  play,  this  pamphlet  drew  from  it  morals  which  were  sup- 
posed to  be  seditious.  In  one  place  it  even  affirmed  the  exist- 
ence of  a  title  superior  to  the  Queen.1  This  book  proved  too 
much  for  Elizabeth's  patience,  and,  sending  the  scribe  to  prison, 
she  summoned  Francis  Bacon  "  to  draw  up  articles  against 
him,"  says  the  biographer;  but,  perhaps,  also,  because  she  had 
reason  to  think  that  Bacon  would  know  more  than  others  about 
the  matter.  Bacon,  in  his  Apophthegms,  or  witty  sayings,  and 
again  in  his  Apologia  concerning  Essex,  relates  this  episode. 


l  See  Emblems  and  Metaphors,  Queen.    We  think  that  time  may  alter 
judgment  and  interpretation  of  this  pamphlet. 


138  FRANCIS  BACON 

But  lie,  apparently,  intentionally  and  ingeniously  confuses  Ids 
story,  in  the  same  manner  of  which  examples  will  be  given  in 
the  chapter  on  "  Feigned  Histories j"  in  the  same  way,  too,  as 
the  accounts  of  the  origin  of  Freemasonry  are  garbled  and 
mixed  up,  in  order  to  puzzle  the  uninitiated  reader. 

He  remembers  (be  says  in  the  Apologia)  an  answer  of  bis  "  in 
a  matter  which  had  some  affinity  with  my  Lord  of  Essex's  cause, 
which,  though  it  grew  from  me,  went  after  about  in  others'  names.1 
For  her  Majesty,  being  mightily  incensed  with  that  book  which 
was  dedicated  to  my  Lord  (being  a  story  of  tbe  first  year  of  Kiug 
Henry  IV.),  thinking  it  a  seditious  prelude  to  put  into  the 
people's  heads  boldness  and  faction,  said  she  had  a  good 
opinion  there  was  treason  in  it,  and  asked  Die  if  I  could  not  find 
any  places  in  it  that  might  be  drawn  within  case  of  treason ; 
whereunto  I  answered,  for  treason  surely  found  I  none,  but  for 
felony  very  many.  And  when  her  Majesty  hastily  asked  me 
wherein?  I  told  her  the  author  had  committed  very  apparent 
theft,  for  he  had  taken  most  of  the  sentences  of  Cornelius 
Tacitus  and  translated  them  into  English,  and  put  them  into  his 
text." 

Tbis  we  see  is  of  the  play;  but  the  story  continues:  "  Another 
time,  when  the  Queen  would  not  be  persuaded  tbat  it  was  his 
writing  whose  name  was  to  it,  but  that  it  had  some  more  mis- 
chievous author,  and  said,  with  great  indignation,  that  she 
would  have  him  racked  to  produce  his  author,  I  replied,  '  Nay, 
Madame,  he  is  a  doctor  [Bacon,  therefore,  had  now  turned  the 
argument  on  to  Br.  Hay  ward's  pamphlet] ;  never  rack  his  person, 
rack  his  stile;  let  him  have  pens,  ink,  and  paper,  and  help  of 
books,  and  be  enjoined  to  continue  the  story  where  it  leaves  off, 
and  I  will  undertake,  by  collecting  the  stiles,  to  judge  whether 
he  were  the  author  or  no.'  "  It  should  be  observed  tbat  Bacon 
does  not  propose  to  "  collect  "  or  collate  the  style  of  the  pam- 
phlet with  that  of  the  play,  which  would  be  the  obvious  thing 
to  do  if  the  author  of  the  obnoxious  play  and  the  author  of  the 
equally  obnoxious  pamphlet  were  supposed  to  be  in  collusion. 

l  Docs  this  enigmatical  sentence  mean  that  the  play  in  question  was  his, 
although  it  passed  under  the  name  of  another  ? 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  139 

His  object,  evidently,  is  to  get  the  young  doctor  of  law  (prob- 
ably a  member  of  his  secret  society)  out  of  the  difficulties  into 
which  he  had  fallen  through  his  complicity  in  the  publication  of 
a  political  squib  against  tyranny,  which  Bacon  was  well  aware 
that  Dr.  Hayward  did  not  write. 

Does  no  one  think  it  strauge  that  Francis  Bacon  should  have 
told  the  Queen  that  the  finest  passages  in  Richard  II.  are  taken 
from  Cornelius  Tacitus  and  translated  into  Euglish  in  that  text, 
and  yet  that  no  commentator  on  Shakespeare,  no  student  of  Taci- 
tus, should  have  been  at  the  paius  of  pointing  out  these  passages? 
They  must  be  cleverly  used,  to  be  so  indistinguishable  to  these 
learned  readers,  for  they  are  there. 

And  is  it  to  be  taken  as  a  mere  matter  of  course  that  Bacon, 
who  as  a  rule  mentions  himself  so  little,  should  have  recorded 
this  scene  and  his  own  speech  amongst  his  collection  of  witty 
sayings,  when  that  speech  (which  is  not  very  witty)  would  have 
had  no  point  if  it  had  not  been  true? 

And  we  ask  again,  Did  it  not  appear  strange  to  Queen  Eliza- 
beth that  Bacon  should  shew  such  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
sources  from  which  some  of  the  chief  passages  in  Richard  II. 
were  derived  —  a  knowledge  beyond  any  which  has  been  dis- 
played by  the  most  learned  and  authentic  Shakespeare  societies 
which  have  existed  until  now? 

These  episodes  about  Dr.  Hayward's  tract  and  the  play  of 
Richard  II.  incline  us  to  a  conviction,  which  is  strengthened  by 
other  evidence,  that  Queen  Elizabeth  had  a  very  shrewd  suspi- 
cion, if  not  an  absolute  knowledge,  that  Francis  Bacon  was  inti- 
mately connected  with  the  revival  of  the  stage  in  her  times. 
Sometimes  it  almost  seems  as  if  she  had  a  still  deeper  acquaint- 
ance with  the  aims  and  objects  of  his  life;  that  sometimes  she 
disapproved,  and  was  only  kept  from  venting  upon  him  all  the 
vials  of  her  wrath,  first  by  her  strong  esteem  and  regard  for  his 
father,  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  and  secondly,  by  her  admiration  of 
Francis  Bacon  himself.  It  seems  not  impossible  that  the  Queen's 
reverence  for  Sir  Nicholas  may  have  been  increased  by  her 
knowledge  of  his  schemes  for  the  revival  of  learning,  and  she 
may  have  known,  probably  did  know,  that  it  was  the  aim  of  the 


140  FRANCIS  BACON 

son  to  carry  out  the  plans  of  his  father.  All  this  is  conjectured, 
though  based  upon  observation  of  small  particulars.  Yet  it  does 
not  appear  that  the  Queen,  although  she  admired  Francis,  ever 
valued  bim  as  equal  to  his  father.  On  the  contrary,  she  often 
thwarted  him,  or  publicly  passed  him  over  in  a  manner  which 
was  very  painful  to  him.  Probably,  as  is  so  often  the  case  with 
old  people,  she  could  not  comprehend  that  the  son,  whom  she 
looked  on  as  a  boy,  would  so  far  outshine  the  father  that  the 
latter  should  hereafter  be  chiefly  known  as  "  Francis  Bacon's 
father. » 

On  the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  the  Princess  Elizabeth 
with  the  Count  Palatine,  February  14, 1612-13,  the  usual  rejoic- 
ings took  place:  triumphs,  fire- works,  sham  fights  upon  the  water, 
masques,  running  at  the  ring,  and  the  rest  of  it,  "  concerning 
which,"  says  Speddiag, l  "  it  would  not  have  been  necessary  to 
say  anything  were  it  not  that  Bacon  took  a  principal  part  in  the 
preparation  of  one  of  the  masques. "  This  was  the  joint  masque 
presented  by  the  gentlemen  of  Gray's  Inn  and  the  Inner  Tem- 
ple, "  written  by  Francis  Beaumont,"  and  printed  shortly  after 
with  the  following  dedication : 

"  to  the  worthy  slr  francis  bacon,  his  majesty's  solic- 
itor-general,  and  the  grave  and  learned  bench  of 
the  anciently  allied  houses  of  gray's  inn  and  the 
Inner  Temple,  the  Inner  Temple  and  Gray's  Inn. 

"  Ye  that  spared  no  pain  nor  travail  in  the  setting  forth,  or- 
dering, and  furnishing  of  this  masque  (being  the  first  fruits  of 
honour  in  this  kind  which  these  two  societies  have  offered  to 
His  Majesty),  will  not  think  much  now  to  look  back  upon  the 
effects  of  your  own  care  and  work;  for  that,  whereof  the  success 
was  then  doubtful,  is  now  happily  performed,  and  graciously 
accepted;  and  that  which  you  were  then  to  think  of  in  straits  of 
time,  you  may  now  peruse  at  leisure.  And  you,  Sir  Francis 
Bacon,  especially,  as  you  did  then  by  your  countenance  and 
loving  affections  advance  it,  so  let  your  good  word  grace  it  and 
defend  it,  which  is  able  to  add  value  to  the  greatest  and  least 
matters." 

1  Life  and  Letters,  iv.  343. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  141 

There  we  perceive  that  the  gentlemen  (exclusive  of  Bacon) 
who  had  taken  so  much  pains  in  the  setting  forth  of  this  impor- 
tant and  almost  national  tribute  of  respect  to  the  royal  family 
are  thanked  for  their  aid  in  the  "  ordering  and  furnishing  "  of  a 
masque  with  which,  clearly,  they  were  not  as  a  whole  well 
acquainted.  They  helped,  as  modern  phrase  has  it,  to  "  get 
up  "  the  masque,  but  of  its  drift  they  had  so  little  knowledge 
that  what  they  could  only  think  of  in  "  straits  of  time, "  perhaps 
during  the  performance,  they  could  now  enjoy  by  reading  it  at 
leisure.  None  of  these  busy  helpers,  then,  had  contributed  to 
the  writing  of  the  masque,  and  the  wording  of  the  dedication, 
although  it  does  not  say  that  Bacon  was  the  author,  yet  seems 
to  indicate  as  much;  for  it  skilfully  brings  him  to  the  front,  and 
entirely  ignores  Beaumont,  who,  however,  doubtless  did  "  write  " 
the  masque — fair,  with  a  pen  and  ink. 

"  It  is  easy  to  believe,"  says  the  biographer,  "  that  if  Bacon 
took  an  active  part  in  the  preparations  of  a  thing  of  this  kind,  in 
the  success  of  which  he  felt  an  interest,  he  would  have  a  good 
deal  to  say  about  all  the  arrangements.  But  as  we  have  no 
means  of  knowiug  what  he  did  say,  and  thereby  learning  some- 
thing as  to  his  taste  in  this  department,1  it  will  be  well  to  give 
a  general  account  of  the  performance  as  described  by  an  eye- 
witness. " 

"  On  Tuesday,  "writes  Chamberlain,  February  18, 1612-13,  "  it 
came  to  Gray's  Inn  and  the  Inner  Temple's  turn  to  come  with  their 
masque,  whereof  Sir  Francis  Bacon  was  the  chief  contriver;  and 
because  the  former  came  on  horseback  and  in  open  chariots, 
they  made  choice  to  come  by  water  from  Winchester  Place,  in 
Southwark;  which  suited  well  with  their  device,  which  was  the 
marriage  of  the  River  Thames  to  the  Rhine;  and  their  show  by 
water  was  very  gallant,  by  reason  of  infinite  store  of  lights,  very 
curiously  set  and  placed,  and  many  boats  and  barges  with  devices 

1  Why  the  writer  should  say  this  ve  know  not,  for  two  pages  farther  on  he 
says:  "  For  what  Bacon  had  to  'say  about  such  things,  see  his  essay  of  Masques  and 
Triumplis,  which  was  very  likely  suggested  hy  the  consideration  he  had  to  bestow 
on  this."  This  essay  was  never  published  until  one  year  before  Bacon's  death, 
i.  e.,  1625.  It  shows  us  that  Bacon's  love  of  the  stage  and  of  masquing  was  as 
keen  in  his  old  age  as  in  his  youth.  In  the  posthumous  edition  ot  the  Essays, 
published  in  1638,  the  essay  is  suppressed. 


142  FRANCIS  BACON 

of  lights  and  lamps,  with  three  peals  of  ordnance,  one  at  their 
taking  water,  another  in  the  Temple  Garden,  and  the  last  at 
their  landing;  which  passage  hy  water  cost  them  better  than 
£  300.  They  were  received  at  the  privy  stairs,  and  great  expecta- 
tion there  was  that  they  should  every  way  excel  their  competi- 
tors that  went  before  them,  both  in  device,  daintiness  of  apparel, 
and  above  all  in  dancing,  wherein  they  are  held  excellent,  and 
esteemed  for  the  properer  men. 

"  But  by  what  ill  planet  it  fell  out  I  know  not,  they  came  home 
as  they  went,  without  doing  anything;  the  reason  whereof  I 
cannot  yet  learn  thoroughly,  but  only  that  the  hall  was  so  full 
that  it  was  not  possible  to  avoid1  it,  or  make  room  for  them; 
besides  that,  most  of  the  ladies  were  in  the  galleries  to  see  them 
land,  and  could  not  get  in.  But  the  worst  of  all  was  that  the 
King  was  so  wearied  and  sleepy  with  sitting  almost  two  whole 
nights  before,  that  he  had  no  edge  to  it.  Whereupon  Sir  Fran- 
cis Bacon  adventured  to  entreat  of  his  Majesty  that  by  this  dif- 
ference he  would  not,  as  it  were,  bury  then  quick;2  and  I  hear 
the  King  should  answer  that  then  they  must  bury  him  quick,  for 
he  could  last  no  longer;  but  withal  gave  them  very  good  words, 
and  appointed  them  to  come  again  on  Saturday. 

"But  the  grace  of  their  masque  is  quite  gone,  when  their 
apparel  hath  been  already  showed,  and  their  devices  vented,  so 
that  how  it  will  fall  out,  God  knows,  for  they  are  much  dis- 
couraged and  out  of  countenance,  and  the  world  says,  it  comes 
to  pass  after  the  old  proverb,  the  properer  man,  the  worse 
luck.  "3 

Their  devices,  however,  went  much  beyond  the  mere  exhibi- 
tion of  themselves  and  their  apparel,  and  there  was  novelty 
enough  behind  the  curtain  to  make  a  sufficient  entertainment 
by  itself,  without  the  water  business  for  overture.  Chamberlain 
writes  again  on  the  25th: 

"  Our  Gray's  Inn  men  and  the  Inner  Templars  were  nothing 
discouraged  for  all  the  first  dodge,  but  on  Saturday  last  per- 
formed their  part  exceeding  well,  and  with  great  applause  and 
approbation,  both  from  the  King  and  all  the  company.     The 

1  "  Clear  it."  2  "  Alive."        3  Court  and  Times  of  James  I.  i.  227. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  143 

next  night  the  King  invited  thr.  masquers,  with  their  assistants, 
to  the  number  of  forty,  to  a  solemn  supper  in  the  new  marriage- 
room,  where  they  were  well  treated,  and  much  graced  with  kiss- 
ing his  majesty's  hand,  and  everyone  having  a  particular  accog- 
lienza  with  him."  * 

None  of  Bacon's  biographers  or  critics  have  expressed  the 
smallest  surprise  that,  in  days  when  Shakspere  and  Ben  Jonson 
were  at  the  height  of  their  fame,  it  was  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other  of  them,  but  the  Solicitor- General,  who  was  employed  to 
"  contrive,"  and  ultimately  to  manage,  the  first  masque  which 
had  been  "  presented"  to  the  King.  Under  similar  circum- 
stances we  should  expect  that  Mr.  Beerbohrn  Tree  or  Mr.  Irving 
would  be  invited  to  undertake  such  a  management;  it  would  not 
have  occurred  to  us  to  apply  for  help  to  Sir  Edward  Clarke, 
Q.  C,  M.  P. 

In  1G13  Francis  Bacon  was  appointed  Attorney-General.  This 
happened  just  before  the  marriage  of  the  Earl  of  Somerset  with 
Lady  Essex,  on  December  26th.  There  were  very  unpleasant 
chcumstances  connected  with  this  marriage,  which  are  now 
known  to  historians,  but  which  it  is  unnecessary  here  to  enter 
upon.  As  Spedding  says,  it  is  but  fair  to  the  world  of  rank, 
wealth,  fashion,  and  business,  which  hastened  to  congratulate 
the  bride  and  bridegroom  with  gifts  unprecedented  in  number 
and  value,  to  remember  that  it  does  not  follow  that  they  would 
have  done  the  same  if  they  had  known  what  we  know.2  It  was 
proposed  that  during  the  week  of  festivities  which  celebrated  this 
marriage  the  four  Inns  of  Court  (the  Middle  and  Inner  Temple, 
Gray's  Inn  and  Lincoln's  Inn)  should  join  in  getting  up  a  masque, 
but  they  could  not  manage  it,  and  once  more  we  find  Bacon 
called  upon  to  supply  their  dramatic  deficiencies. 

It  appears  that  Bacon  considered  that  he  owed  Somerset  some 
complimentary  offering,  because  Somerset  claimed  (though  Bacon 
doubted  it)  to  have  used  his  influence  with  the  King  to  secure 
Bacon's  promotion.  The  approaching  marriage  gave  the  latter 
an  opportunity  for  discharging  an  obligation  to  a  man  for  whom 

i  lb.  229. 

2  Letters  and  Life,  iv.  392.  The  following  passages  are  nearly  all  extracted 
from  this  volume  of  Spedding. 


144  FBANCIS  BACON 

he  had  no  esteem,  whom,  iudeed,  be  disliked  too  much  to  be 
willing  to  owe  even  a  seeming  and  pretended  obligation. 

Tbe  offering  was  well  chosen  for  this  purpose,  although,  as 
Spedding  allows,  it  was  "  so  costly  (considering  how  little  be 
owed  to  Rochester,  and  how  superficial  their  intercourse  had 
been),  and  at  tbe  same  time  so  peculiar,  tbat  it  requires  expla- 
nation." i  "While  all  tbe  world  were  making  presents — one  of 
plate,  anotber  of  furniture,  a  third  of  horses,  a  fourth  of  gold  — 
he  chose  amasque,  for  which  an  accident  supplied  bim  with  an  ex- 
cellent opportunity.  When  tbe  united  efforts  of  the  four  inns  of 
court  failed  to  produce  the  required  entertainment,  Bacon  of- 
fered, on  the  part  of  Gray's  Inn,  to  supply  tbe  place  of  it  by  a 
masque  of  their  own. 

The  letter,  in  Bacon's  own  hand,  which  was  at  first  supposed 
to  be  addressed  to  Burghley,  but  which,  upon  close  examination, 
Spedding  believed  to  be  written  to  Somerset,  acquires  a  new 
value  and  significance  from  the  latter  circumstance,  giving  fresh 
evidence  botb  as  to  tbe  tone  of  Bacon's  intercourse  with  the 
favourite,  and  as  to  the  style  in  which  be  did  tbiskind  of  tbing. 
"  Tbe  fly-leaf  being  gone,  tbe  address  is  lost,  and  the  docket 
does  not  supply  it;  there  is  no  date."  (Just  as  we  should  expect 
when  tbe  record  has  anything  to  connect  Bacon  with  plays  or 
masques.)  "  Tbe  catalogue  assumes  that  it  is  addressed  to  Lord 
Burghley, "  and  tbis  erroneous  assumption  adds  one  more  little 
obstruction  to  tbe  discovery  or  recognition  of  the  letter,  wbicb 
is  a  single  leaf,  and  contains  only  the  following  words : 

"  It  may  please  your  good  L.: 

"  I  am  sorry  the  masque  from  the  four  Inns  of  Court  faileth; 
wherein  I  conceive  there  is  no  other  ground  of  that  event  but 
impossibility.  Nevertheless,  because  it  faileth  out  that  at  this 
time  Gray's  Inn  is  well  furnished  of  gallant  young  gentlemen, 
your  L.  may  be  pleased  to  know  tbat,  rather  than  tbis  occasion 
shall  pass  without  some  demonstration  of  affection  from  the 
four  Inns  of  Court,  there  are  a  dozen  gentlemen  that,  out  of 
the  honour  which  they  bear  to  your  Lordship  and  my  Lord 
Chamberlain  (to  whom  at  their  last  masque  they  were  so 
bounden),  will  be  ready  to  furnish  a  masque;  wishing  it  were  in 

l  Let.  and  Life,  iv.  392. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  145 

their  powers  to  perform  it  according  to  their  minds.    And  so  for 
the  present  I  humbly  take  my  leave,  resting 

"  Your  L.Js  very  humbly 

"  and  much  bounden 

"Fk.  Bacon." 

The  Lord  Chamberlain  was  the  Earl  of  Suffolk,  who  was  the 
bride's  father;  so  that  everything  seems  to  fit.  But  though 
Bacon  speaks  of  it  as  a  compliment  from  Gray's  Inn,  Gray's 
Inn  was  in  reality  to  furnish  only  the  performers  and  the  com- 
posers. The  care  and  the  charges  were  to  be  undertaken  by 
himself,  as  we  learn  from  a  news  letter  of  Chamberlain's,  whose 
information  is  almost  always  to  be  relied  upon.  Writing  on  the 
23d  of  December,  1613,  he  says: 

"  Sir  Francis  Bacon  prepares  a  masque  to  honour  this  mar- 
riage, which  will  stand  him  in  above  £2,000;  and  though  he  have 
been  offered  some  help  by  the  House,  and  especially  by  Mr. 
Solicitor,  Sir  Henry  Yelvertou,  who  would  have  sent  him  £500, 
yet  he  would  not  accept  it,  but  offers  them  the  whole  charge 
with  the  honour.  Marry!  his  obligations  are  such,  as  well  to 
his  Majesty  as  to  the  great  Lord,  and  to  the  whole  house  of 
Howards,  as  he  can  admit  no  partner." 

The  nature  of  the  obligation  considered,  there  was  judgment 
as  well  as  magnificence  in  the  choice  of  the  retribution.  The 
obligation  (whether  real  or  not)  being  for  assistance  in  obtain- 
ing an  office,  to  repay  it  by  any  present  which  could  be  turned 
into  money  would  have  been  objectionable,  as  tending  to  coun- 
tenance the  great  abuse  of  the  times  (from  which  Bacon  stands 
clear) — the  sale  of  offices  for  money.  There  was  no  such  objec- 
tion to  a  masque.  As  a  compliment,  it  was  splendid,  according 
to  the  taste  and  magnificence  of  the  time;  costly  to  the  giver, 
not  negotiable  to  the  receiver;  valuable  as  a  compliment,  but  as 
nothing  else.  Nor  was  its  value  in  that  kind  limited  to  the  par- 
ties in  whose  honour  it  was  given.  It  conferred  great  distinc- 
tion upon  Gray's  Inn,  in  a  field  in  which  Gray's  Inn  was  ambi- 
tious and  accustomed  to  shine. 

The  piece  performed  was  published  shortly  after,  with  a  dedi- 
cation to  Bacon,  as  "  the  principal,  and  in  effect  the  only  per- 
son that  doth  encourage  and  warrant  the  gentlemen  to  shew 
their  good  affection  in  a  time  of  such  magnificence;  wherein" 


146  FRANCIS  BACON 

(they  add)  "  we  conceive,  without  giving  you  false  atributes, 
which  little  need  where  so  many  are  true,  that  you  have  graced 
in  general  the  societies  of  the  Inns  of  Court,  in  continuing  them 
still  as  third  persons  with  the  nobility  and  court,  in  doing  the 
King  honour;  and  particularly  Gray's  Inn,  which,  as  you  have 
formerly  brought  to  flourish,  both  in  the  ancicnter  and  younger  sort, 
by  countenancing  virtue  in  every  quality,  so  now  you  have  made 
a  notable  demonstration  thereof  in  the  lighter  and  less  serious 
kind,  by  this,  that  one  Inn  of  Court  by  itself,  in  time  of  a  vaca- 
tion, and  in  the  space  of  three  weeks,  could  perform  that  which 
hath  been  performed;  which  could  not  have  been  done  but  that 
every  man's  exceeding  love  and  respect  to  you  gave  him  wings  to 
overtake  time,  which  is  the  swiftest  of  things. " 

The  words  which  we  print  in  italics  seem  to  show  that  the 
true  object  of  this  celebrated  masque  was  to  do  the  King  honour; 
and,  probably,  we  shall  one  day  find  that  it  was  at  some  ex- 
pressed desire  or  regret  of  his  that  Francis  Bacon  was  moved  to 
undertake  this  work,  which  had  proved  (as  he  said  in  his  letters 
to  Rochester)  an  "  impossibility"  when  attempted  by  the  whole 
of  the  four  Inns  of  Court  in  conjunction. 

Observe,  too,  the  unexplained  debt  which  Gray's  Inn  is  said 
to  owe  to  Bacon  for  its  flourishing  condition,  and  the  exceeding 
love  which  the  members  bore  to  him,  and  which  alone  enabled 
them  to  carry  out  his  elaborate  devices  in  the  short  space  of 
three  weeks.  We  would  like  to  ascertain  who  were  J.  G.,  W.  D. 
and  T.  B.,  who  signed  the  dedication.  Spedding  says  that, 
from  an  allusion  to  their  "  graver  studies,"  they  appear  to  have 
been  members  of  the  society.  The  allusion,  coupled  with  the 
description  of  the  masque  as  a  show  or  "  demonstration,  in  the 
lighter  and  less  serious  hind, "  made  to  please  the  King,  again 
carries  our  minds  to  the  opening  words  of  the  Essay  of  M asques: 
"  These  things  are  but  toys  to  come  amongst  such  serious  mat- 
ters; but  since  princes  will  have  them,"  etc.,  they  should  be 
properly  done. 

This  piece,  entitled  The  Masque  of  Flowers,  may  be  seen 
at  full  length  in  Nichol's  Progresses:  u  A  very  splendid  trifle, 
and  answering  very  well  to  the  description  in  Bacon's  Essays  of 


AND  HIS  SEGBET  SOCIETY.      '  147 

what  a  masque  should  be, — with  its  loud  and  cheerful  music, 
abundance  of  light  and  colour,  graceful  motions  and  forms,  and 
such  things  as  do  naturally  take  the  sense,  but  haviug  no 
personal  reference  to  the  occasion  beyond  being  an  entertain- 
ment given  in  honour  of  a  marriage,  and  ending  with  an  offering 
of  flowers  to  the  bride  and  bridegroom. "  * 

In  March,  1617,  Bacon  was  installed  as  Lord  Chancellor  upon 
the  death  of  Egerton.  On  May  7th  he  rode  from  Gray's  Inn  to 
Westminster  Hall  to  open  the  courts  in  state.  "  All  London 
turned  out  to  do  him  honour,  and  every  one  who  could  borrow  a 
horse  and  a  foot-cloth  fell  into  the  train;  so  that  more  than  two 
hundred  horsemen  rode  behind  him.  Through  crowds  of  citizens 
.  .  .  of  players  from  Bankside,  of  the  Puritan  hearers  of  Burgess, 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  friends  of  Danvers  and  Armstrong,  he 
rode,  as  popular  in  the  streets  as  he  had  been  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  down  Chancery  Lane  and  the  Strand,  past  Charing 
Cross,  through  the  open  courts  of  Whitehall,  and  by  King  Street 
into  Palace  yard. "  2 

The  Bankside  players,  then,  came  in  a  bevy,  sufficiently  numer- 
ous to  be  conspicuous  and  registered  in  history,  and  all  the  way' 
from  Southwark,  in  order  to  do  honour  to  the  newly  made  Chan- 
cellor.    "  My  friends,  chew  upon  this. " 

The  Essay  of  Masques  and  Triumphs  would  suffice  to  show  any 
unbiased  reader  that  the  author  was  intimately  acquainted  with 
the  practical  management  of  a  theatre.  There  is  something 
particularly  graphic  in  this  little  essay,  which  we  commend  to 
the  consideration  of  those  who  interest  themselves  in  private 
theatricals.  It  should  be  remembered  that  Bacon  would  not 
insert  amongst  his  most  polished  and  well  filed  essays  two 
pages  of  small  particulars  ivith  which  every  one  was  acquainted. 
He  is  clearly  instructing  those  who  do  not  know  so  much  of  the 
matter  as  he  does. 

True,  he  takes  a  high  ground,  and  prefaces  his  remarks  with 
the  reflection  that  "  these  things  are  but  toys  to  come  amongst 
such  serious  considerations;  but  yet,  since  princes  will  have  such 


1  Spedding,  Letters  and  Life,  iv.  394-5.  2  Story  of  Bacon's  Life,  317. 


148  FRANCIS  BACON 

things,  it  is  better  they  should  be  graced  with  elegancy  than 
daubed  with  cost, "  and  he  tells  us  how  to  ensure  this,  giving 
many  suggestions  which  have  been  adopted  until  this  day. 
"  Acting  in  song  hath  an  extreme  good  grace;  I  say  acting,  not 
dancing,  for  that  is  a  mean  and  vulgar  thing. "  The  things  he 
sets  down  are  such  as  "  take  the  sense, not  petty  wonderments," 
though  he  considers  that  change  of  scene,  so  it  be  quietly  and 
without  noise,  is  a  thing  of  beauty.  The  scenes  are  to  abound 
with  light,  but  varied  and  coloured — the  masquers  when  appear- 
ing on  the  scene  from  above  are  to  "  make  motions  "  which  will 
draw  the  eye  strangely  and  excite  desire  to  see  that  which  it 
cannot  perfectly  discern.  The  songs  are  to  be  loud  and  cheer- 
ful, "  not  chirpings  andpulings,"  and  the  music  sharp  and  well- 
placed.  The  colours  that  show  best  by  candle-light  are  "  white, 
carnation,  and  a  kind  of  seawater-green."  Short  and  pithy  as 
this  essay  is,  we  wonder  that  it  had  never  struck  Shakspereans 
how  wonderfully  well  Mrs.  Page,  in  her  little  device  to  frighten 
and  confuse  Falstaff,  carried  out  the  instructions  here  conveyed. 
The  music  placed  in  the  saw-pit;  the  many  rounds  of  waxen 
tapers  on  the  heads  of  the  fairies;  the  rush  out  of  the  saw-pit 
with  songs  and  rattles  "  to  take  the  sense. "  The  fairies  in 
green  and  white,  singing  a  scornful  rhyme  as  they  trip  and  pinch 
Falstaff.  Although  the  masque  is  intended  to  frighten  him, 
there  is  in  it  nothing  frightful,  for  "  anything  that  is  hideous, 
as  devils  and  giants,  is  unfit."  Satires,  antics,  sprites  and  pig- 
mies Bacon  allows;  so  Mrs.  Page  introduces  "  my  little  son  and 
those  of  the  same  growth,"  dressed  "  like  urchins,  ouphes  and 
fairies. " 

Even  the  "  diffused "  song  which  they  sing  seems  to  be 
arranged  with  care  and  intention,  for,  says  Bacon,  "  I  under- 
stand it,  that  the  song  be  in  quire,  with  some  broken  music." 
But  he  concludes,  "  Enough  of  these  toys,"  and  perhaps  when 
the  Bankside  players  came  to  see  him  ride  in  state  as  Chancel- 
lor, there  may  have  been  some  amongst  them  who  knew  that 
indeed  he  would  no  more  be  able  to  indulge  in  meddling  with 
such  toys  as  these. 

Public  and  political  business  now  increased  with  Bacon  so  that, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  149 

without  even  taking  other  enterprises  into  consideration,  no  one 
will  find  it  strange  that  from  this  time  no  more  is  heard  of  his 
performing  the  part  of  stage-manager  or  master  of  the  revels  on 
any  occasion  later  than  that  of  the  marriage  of  the  King's 
favourite.  Probably,  however,  want  of  time  had  very  little  to 
do  with  the  matter,  for  Bacon  seems  always  to  have  found  time 
for  doing  all  that  it  was  desirable  should  be  done.  It  is  more 
likely  that  he  felt  the  incongruity  which  wo  aid  appear  between 
the  trivialities  of  such  "  toys  "  and  the  dignity  of  his  position 
as  Attorney-General  and  prospective  Chancellor.  Nevertheless, 
even  in  the  published  records  of  his  later  years  hints  drop  out 
here  and  there  as  to  his  continued  devotion  to  theatrical  per- 
formances, and  his  unfading  interest  in  playwrights  and  all  con- 
cerning them.  He  knew  that  the  stage  was  a  great  engine  for 
good,  and  for  teaching  and  moving  the  masses,  who  would  never 
read  books  or  hear  lectures. 

In  January,  1617,  Bacon  "  dined  at  Gray's  Inn  to  give  counte- 
nance to  their  Lord  and  Prince  of  Purpoole,  and  to  see  their 
revels. "  i  At  this  time,  according  to  a  letter  from  Buckingham 
to  the  King,  a  masque  was  performed;  but  we  know  not  what  it 
was.  A  masque  appears  also  to  have  been  in  preparation  for 
Shrove  Tuesday,  though  it  could  not  be  performed  till  Tuesday, 
owing  to  the  occupation  of  the  banqueting  hall  by  an  improved 
edition  of  the  "  Prince's  Masque  "  —  a  piece  of  Ben  Jonson's,  which 
had  been  acted  on  Twelfth  Night  with  little  applause.  "  The 
poet,  "says  Nathaniel  Brent,  "  is  grown  dull,  that  his  device  is  not 
thought  worth  the  relating,  much  less  the  copying  out.  Divers 
think  fit  he  should  return  to  his  old  trade  of  bricklaying  again. "  2 
Nevertheless,  "  their  fashion  and  device  were  well  approved  "  on 
the  second  occasion,  when  the  "  dull "  device  must  have  under- 
gone a  good  deal  of  alteration,  since  Chamberlain  adds,  "  I  can- 
not call  it  a  masque,  seeing  they  were  not  disguised  nor  had 
vizards. " 

"  Ben  Jonson  had  seen  something  of  Bacon  off  the  stage, 
though  we  do  not  know  how  much,"  says  Spedding,  writing  of 
the  last  years  of  Bacon's  life.     Tradition  is  persistent  in  repeat- 


l  Chamberlain  to  Carleton.  2  To  Carleton,  February  7,  1617-18. 


150  FRANCIS  BACON 

ing  that  Ben  Jonson  was  one  of  Bacon's  "  able  pens, "an  assist- 
ant in  his  writings,  superior  to  an  ordinary  amanuensis.  Drum- 
mond  of  Hawthornden  records  that  Ben  Jonson  mentioned  having 
written  an  "  apology11  for  the  play  of  Bartholomew  Fair,  "  in 
my  Lord  St.  Aubanie's house,"  in  1604. 

Jonson  "  hursts  into  song, "  says  one  biographer,  when  poli- 
tics or  events  favour  Bacon's  view,  and  in  1620  he  "  celebrates 
his  birthday, "  says  another,  "in  words  breathing  nothing  but 
reverence  and  honour.  Since  these  lines,  often  alluded  to,  are 
little  known,  it  may  be  worth  while  to  quote  them  here: 

"  Hail,  happy  genius  of  this  ancient  pile  ! 
How  conies  it  all  things  so  about  thee  smile  ? 
The  fire,  the  wine,  the  men !  and  in  tho  midst 
Thou  stand'st  as  if  a  mystery  thou  didst ! 

Pardon,  I  read  it  in  thy  face,  the  day 

For  whose  returns,  and  many,  all  these  pray ; 

And  so  do  I.    This  is  the  sixtieth  year  , 

Since  Bacon  and  thy  lord  was  born,  and  here; 

Son  to  the  grave,  wise  keeper  of  the  seal, 

Fame  and  foundation  of  the  English  weal. 

What  then  his  father  was,  that  since  is  he, 

"Now  with  a  little  more  to  the  degree ; 

England's  High  Chancellor,  tho  destin'd  heir 

In  his  soft  cradle  to  his  father's  chair : 

Whoso  even  threads  the  Fates  spun  round  and  full 

Out  of  their  choicest  and  their  whitest  wool. 

'Tis  a  brave  cause  of  joy,  let  it  be  known, 

For  'twere  a  narrow  gladness,  kept  thine  own. 

Give  me  a  deep-bowl'd  crown,  that  I  may  sing, 

In  raising  him,  tho  wisdom  of  my  King." 

However  much  or  little  Bacon  may  have  known  of  Ben  Jonson 
"  off  the  stage, "  it  is  certain  that  Ben  Jonson  formed  a  very 
accurate  estimate  of  Bacon's  abilities  as  a  writer  and  a  poet.  It 
is  impossible  so  to  wrest  the  ordinary  aud  accepted  meaning  of 
words  as  to  insist  that  Ben  Jonson  did  not  mean  what  he  so 
plainly  says  (and  in  connection  with  the  poetic  writings  of 
Greece  and  Rome,  as  in  the  eulogy  of  Shakespeare),  namely, 
that  he  "filled  up  all  numbers,"  or  wrote  poetry  in  all  styles 
and  metres.     Enumerating  the  learned  and  eloquent  men  of  the 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  151 

early  days  of  Elizabeth,  when  "  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon  was  singu- 
lar and  almost  alone,  he  mentions  Sir  Philip  Sydney,  Master 
Richard  Hooker,  Robert,  Earl  of  Essex,  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  Sir 
Henry  Savile,  Sir  Edwin  Sandys,  and  Sir  Thomas  Egerton,  "  a 
grave  and  great  orator,  and  best  when  he  was  provoked.  But 
his  learned  and  able,  though  unfortunate  successor,  is  he  ivho 
hath  filled  up  all  numbers,  and  performed  that  in  our  tongue 
ivhich  may  be  compared  or  preferred  to  insolent  Grreece  and 
haughty  Rome." 

It  will*  be  observed  that  Shakespeare  and  the  whole  of  the 
Elizabethan  poets  and  dramatists,  excepting  Sir  Philip  Sydney, 
are  here  omitted,  and  that  Jonson  considers  that  with  Bacdn's 
death  the  main  prop  of  learning,  wit,  eloquence,  and  poetry  had 
been  taken  away. 

"  In  short,  within  his  view,  and  about  his  time,  were  all  the 
wits  bora  that  could  honour  a  language  or  help  study.  Now 
things  daily  fall,  wits  go  backward;  so  that  he  may  be  named 
and  stand  as  the  mark  or  dxju??  of  our  language." 

Jonson  is  not  here  speaking  of  Bacon's  scientific  works.  He 
comes  to  them  in  a  subsequent  paragraph,  wherein  he  again 
shows  his  intimate  knowledge  of  Bacon's  powers,  aims,  and  char- 
acter. "  The  Novum  Organum,"  he  says,  is  a  book  "  which, 
though  by  the  most  superficial  of  men,  who  cannot  get  beyond 
the  title  of  nominals,  it  is  not  penetrated  nor  understood,  it 
really  openeth  all  defects  of  learning  ivhatsoever,  and  is  a  book, 
Qui  longem  noto  scriptori  proroget  oevum."l 

In  connection  with  Bacon's  acquaintance  with  actors  and 
his  interest  in  the  theatre,  we  must  add  a  few  words  about  one 
distinguished  member  of  the  profession.  Edward  Allen,  or 
Alleyn,  was  the  founder  of  Dulwich  College,  a  munificent  en- 
dowment which  has  been  the  subject  of  much  wonder  and  of 
a  considerable  amount  of  unrewarded  inquiry.  How  Alleyn 
became  possessed  of  the  means  to  enter  upon  and  carry  through 
so  large  and  costly  an  enterprise  has  not  yet  been  satisfactorily 
explained  to  the  public  at  large,  but  the  facts  are  clear  that  in 

l  Horat.  de  Art.  Poetica. 


1 52  FRANCIS  BA  CON 

1606  he  began  to  acquire  land  at  Dulwich,  and  the  most 
important  of  the  valuable  estates  which  now  collectively  form 
the  endowment  of  the  college;  that  in  1613  he  contracted  with 
a  certain  John  Benson  for  the  erection  of  a  school-house  and 
twelve  alms-houses,  and  that  in  the  course  of  the  years  of  1616 
and  1617  the  first  members  of  his  foundation  were  admitted  to 
the  college.  Alleyn  now  endeavoured  to  obtain  from  the  King  a 
patent  for  the  permanent  establishment  of  his  college  by  its 
endowment  by  the  King  of  lands  to  the  value  of  £800.  Ba- 
con opposed  this,  not  because  he  objected  to  the  charity,  in 
which  he  was  interested,  but  because  he  considered  that  the 
crown  property  would  suffer  if  the  King  once  began  the  system 
of  "  amortizing  his  tenures  "  for  charitable  purposes.  More- 
over, alms-houses,  he  thought,  were  not  unmixed  blessings, 
whereas  endowments  for  educational  purposes  were  much 
needed.  The  King  had  lately  rejected  the  applications  of  Sir 
Henry  Savile  and  Sir  Edward  Sandys  for  grants  of  money  for 
such  purposes ;  why,  then,  should  he  give  such  a  large  sum  to 
Alleyn  ? 

Bacon's  good  judgment  in  preferring  educational  institutions 
to  alms-houses  has  been  vindicated  by  the  action  of  the  Charity 
Commission.  By  an  act  of  Parliament  passed  in  1857  the  almsmen 
of  the  "  hospital  "  were  all  pensioned  off,  and  the  foundation 
completely  reconstructed,  simply  as  a  collegiate  institution, 
with  upper  and  lower  schools. 

Since,  even  in  this  matter,  it  has  been  attempted  to  put  Bacon 
in  the  wrong,  by  representing  that  "  the  impediments  which 
Alleyn  experienced  proceeded  from  the  Lord  Chancellor,"  and 
by  the  implication  that  these  impediments  were  needlessly  vex- 
atious. Here  is  the  letter  which  Bacon  wrote  on  this  occasion 
to  the  Marquis  of  Buckingham.  It  has  been  truly  described  as 
characteristic  in  point  and  quaintness : 

"  My  Vert  Good  Lord  : 

"  I  thank  your  lordship  for  your  last  loving  letter.  I  now  write 
to  give  the  King  an  account  of  a  patent  I  have  stayed  at  the 
seal.  It  is  of  licence  to  give  in  mortmain  eight  hundred  pound 
land,  though  it  be  of  tenure  in  chief,  to  Allen,  that  was  the 
player,  for  an  hospital. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  153 

"  I  like  well  that  Allen  playeth  the  last  act  of  his  life  so  well ; 
but  if  his  Majesty  give  way  thus  to  amortize  his  tenures,  his 
courts  of  wards  shall  decay,  which  I  had  well  hoped  should 
improve. 

"  But  that  which  moveth  me  chiefly  is,  that  his  Majesty  did 
now  lately  absolutely  deny  Sir  Henry  Savile  for  £200,  and  Sir 
Edwin  Sandys  for  £100  to  the  perpetuating  of  two  lectures,  the 
one  in  Oxford,  the  other  in  Cambridge,  foundations  of  singular 
honour  to  his  Majesty  (the  best  of  learned  kings),  and  of  which 
there  is  a  great  want ;  whereas  hospitals  abound,  and  beggars 
abound  never  a  whit  the  less. 

"  If  his  Majesty  do  like  to  pass  the  book  at  all ;  yet  if  he  would 
be  pleased  to  abridge  the  £800  to  £500,  and  then  give  way  to 
the  other  two  books  for  the  university,  it  were  a  princely  work. 
And  I  make  an  humble  suit  to  the  King,  and  desire  your  lordship 
to  join  in  it,  that  it  mought  be  so.  God  ever  preserve  and  pros- 
per you. 

"  Your  lordship's  most  obliged  friend 

"  and  faithful  servant, 

"  Fr.  Verulam,  Cane. 

"  York  House,  this  18th  of  August,  1616. » 

Whether  or  no  the  money  for  the  lectures  at  the  university 
was  granted  by  the  King,  deponents  say  not,  but  on  June  21st, 
1619,  Bacon  affixed  the  great  seal  of  England  to  letters  patent 
from  James  I.  giving  license  to  Edward  Alleyn  "  to  found  and 
establish  a  college  in  Dulwich,  to  endure  and  remain  forever, 
and  to  be  called  The  College  of  GocVs  Gift  in  Dulwich,  in  the 
County  of  Surrey." 

On  September  13th  of  the  same  year  the  college  was  com- 
pleted, "  and  so,  in  the  quaint  words  of  Fuller  "  *  —  words  which 
strangely  echo  those  in  Bacon's  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham—  "  he  -who  out- acted  others  in  his  life,  outdid  himself  before 
his  death. " 

Amongst  the  distinguished  guests  at  the  opening  of  the  col- 
lege Bacon  and  his  friends  are  conspicuous.  Alleyn  gives  a  list 
of  them,  beginning  with  "  The  Lord  Chancellor  (Bacon),  the 
Lord  of  Arondell,  Lord  Ciecill  (Cecil),  Sir  John  Howland,  High 
Shreve,  and  Inigo  Jones,  the  King's  Surveyor. " 

Perhaps  the  latest,  as  it  is  the  greatest  tribute  openly  paid  by 

1  Old  and  New  London,  vi.  298. 


154  FRANCIS  BACON 

Bacon  to  the  value  of  the  theatre  as  a  means  of  popular  educa- 
tion, is  the  passage  which  he  omitted  from  the  Advancement 
of  Learning  in  its  early  form,  but  inserted  in  the  Be  Augmentis 
in  1G23,  when  that  work,  the  crowning  work  of  his  scientific  and 
philosophical  labours,  appeared  simultaneously  with  the  first 
collected  edition  of  the  Shakespeare  plays.  The  passage  was 
not  intended  to  be  read  by  the  "  profane  vulgar, "  who  might 
have  scorned  the  Chancellor  for  praising  the  much-despised  stage. 
It  was,  therefore,  reserved  for  the  Latin,  and  thus  rendered,  for 
the  time,  accessible  only  to  the  learned — for  the  most  part 
Bacon's  friends: 

"  Dramatic  poesy,  which  has  the  theatre  for  its  world,  would 
be  of  excellent  use  if  well  directed.  For  the  stage  is  capable 
of  no  small  influence,  both  of  discipline  and  of  corruption.  Now, 
of  corruptions  in  this  kind  we  have  enough;  but  the  discipline 
has,  in  our  times,  been  plainly  neglected.  And'  though  in 
modern  states  play-acting  is  esteemed  but  as  a  toy,  except  when 
it  is  too  satirical  and  biting,  yet  among  the  ancients  it  was  used 
as  a  means  of  educating  men's  minds  to  virtue.  Nay,  it  has 
been  regarded  by  learned  men  and  great  philosophers  as  a  kind 
of  musician's  bow,  by  which  men's  minds  may  be  played  upon. 
And  certainly  it  is  most  true,  and  one  of  the  greatest  secrets  of 
nature,  that  the  minds  of  men  are  more  open  to  impressions 
and  affections  when  many  are  gathered  together,  than  when 
they  are  alone." l 

The  brief  records  which  are  published  of  Bacon's  last  days 
show  him,  still  in  sickness  and  poverty,  possessing  the  same 
sweet,  gentle,  patient,  and  generous  spirit  which  had  been  with 
him  in  the  brilliant  and  exciting  days  of  prosperity;  even  in  his 
misfortune  and  ruin  making  himself  happy  with  his  books  and 
his  experiments,  trying  to  leave  his  work  in  such  a  condition 
that  others  could  readily  take  up  and  complete  that  which  life 
was  too  short  and  fortune  too  adverse  for  him  to  accomplish 
before  his  death. 

His  will  is  brief,  but  touching  in  its  thought  for  everybody  con- 
nected with  him,  and  for  the  sanguine  spirit  which  it  displays.2 
"  My  name  and  memory  I  leave  to  men's  charitable  speeches, 

1  De  Aug.  ii.  13. 

2  The  following  is  from  Hepworth  Dixon's  Story,  p.  479. 


AND  RIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  155 

and  to  foreign  nations,  and  to  the  next  ages. "  He  desired  to  be 
laid  near  the  mother  he  so  dearly  loved  and  so  closely  resembled, 
in  St  Michael's  Church,  near  Gorhambury.  Sir  John  Constable, 
his  brother-in-law,  was  to  have  the  chief  care  of  his  books.1 
Bequests  were  made  to  tbe  poor  of  all  tbe  parishes  in  which  he 
had  chiefly  resided.  An  ample  income,  beyond  the  terms  of  her 
marriage  settlement,  was  secured  to  bis  wife;  though,  for  rea- 
sons only  darkly  hinted  in  his  will,  a  subsequent  clause  or 
codicil  revoked  these  bequests,  and  left  the  Viscountess  to  her 
legal  rights.  Legacies  were  left  to  his  friends  and  servants; 
to  the  Marquis  d'Effiat  "my  book  of  orisons,  curiously 
rhymed;"  to  the  Earl  of  Dorset  "my  ring  with  the  crushed 
diamond,  which  the  King  gave  me  when  Prince;"  to  Lord  Cav- 
endish "  my  casting  bottle  of  gold." 

Where  are  these  relics?  Surely  the  recipients  must  bave 
valued  such  gifts,  and  handed  them  down  to  their  posterity  as 
curiosities,  if  not  as  precious  treasures.  The  book  of  orisons, 
especially,  we  should  expect  to  find  carefully  preserved.  Can 
no  one  produce  this  most  interesting  prayer-book? 

The  lease  of  Bacon's  rooms  in  Gray's  Inn,  valued  at  three 
hundred  pounds,  was  to  be  sold,  and  the  money  given  to  poor 
scholars.  The  residue  of  his  estate,  he  believed,  would  be  suf- 
ficient to  found  two  lectureships  on  natural  history  and  the 
physical  sciences  at  the  universities.  "  It  was  a  beautiful, 
beneficent  dream,"  but  not  to  be  realized,  for  the  property  ami 
personalty  left  by  Bacon  hardly  sufficed  to  pay  his  debts;  yet  in 
the  last  clause,  which  has  just  been  quoted,  we  see  a  repetition 
of  the  earnest  expression  of  his  opinion  as  to  the  "  great  want" 
of  foundations  for  the  perpetuating  of  lectures,  which  he  men- 
tioned in  his  letter  to  Buckingham.  As  usual,  he  endeavours, 
poor  as  he  now  is,  to  supply  the  necessary  funds,  which  the 
King  had  "denied."  Probably,  had  the  grant  been  denied  to 
Alleyn,  Bacon  intended  himself  to  raise  the  money  for  the  com- 
pletion of  Dulwich  College  and  its  alms-houses. 

The  winter  of  1625-6  was  the  most  dismal  he  had  known; 

l  Another  copy  of  his  will  consigns  the  charge  of  his  "cabinet  and  presses 
full  of  papers"  to  three  trustees,  Constable,  Selden,  and  Herbert. 


156  FEANCIS  BACON 

the  cold  intense,  the  city  blighted  with  plague,  the  war  abroad 
disastrous.  Bacon  remained  at  Gorhambury,  "  bard  at  work 
on  his  Sylva  Sylvarum."  But  that  work  is  merely  a  newly- 
arranged  collection  of  old  notes,  and  its  construction  would  not 
have  been  nearly  sufficient  occupation  for  such  a  mind.  It 
seems  probable  that  Bacon  was  now  engaged  in  putting  together, 
arranging,  or  polishing  the  works  which  he  was  about  to  leave 
behiud,  to  be  brought  out  in  due  season  by  the  faithful  friends 
to  whom  he  entrusted  them,  and  to  whom  he  must,  at  this 
time,  have  given  instructions  as  to  their  future  disposition  and 
publication. 

A  Parliament  was  called  at  Westminster,  for  February,  to 
which  he  received  the  usual  summons,  for  he  had  been  restored 
to  his  legal  rights,  and  reinstated  amongst  his  peers.  But  he 
was  too  ill  to  obey  the  writ.  He  rode  once  to  Gray's  Inn,  but  it 
was  in  April,  and  the  severity  of  the  winter  had  not  yet  passed. 
He  caught  the  cold  of  which  he  died.  Taking  the  air  one  day 
with  his  physician,  Dr.  Witherbourne,  towards  Higbgate,  the 
snow  lying  deep,  it  occurred  to  Bacon  to  inquire  if  flesh  might 
not  be  preserved  in  snow 1  as  well  as  in  salt.  Pulliug  up  at  a 
small  cottage  near  the  foot  of  Higbgate  Hill,  he  bought  a  hen 
from  an  old  woman,  plucked  and  drew  it;  gathered  up  snow  in 
his  hands,  and  stuffed  it  into  the  fowl.  Smitten  with  a  sudden 
chill,  but  doubting  the  nature  of  his  attack,  Bacon  drove  to  the 
house  of  his  friend  Lord  Arundel,  close  by,  where  Witherbourne 
had  him  put  into  the  bed  from  whence  he  rose  no  more. 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  keep  patient  on  reading  that  the  sheets 
between  which  the  invalid  was  laid  "  were  damp,  as  no  one 
had  slept  in  them  for  a  year, "  and,  although  the  servants  warmed 
the  bed  with  a  pan  of  coals,  the  damp  inflamed  his  cold. 

From  the  first  a  gentle  fever  set  in ;  he  lingered  just  a  week; 
and  then,  on  the  9th  of  April,  1626,  expired  of  congestion  of 
the  lungs.2 

1  This  idea  was  the  original  thought  which  has  since  given  rise  to  the  various 
systems  of  preserving  and  transporting  frozen  meat  from  distant  countries. 

2  H.  Dixon,  from  Court  and  Times  of  Charles,  i.  74 ;  Lord's  Journal,  iii.  492; 
Aubrey,  ii.  227. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  157 

He  was  buried,  as  directed,  near  his  mother,  in  the  parish 
church  of  St.  Michael,  near  St.  Albans.  This  picturesque  and 
lonely  little  church  became  a  place  of  pilgrimage,  and  will,  we 
believe,  become  so  once  more.  The  obligations  of  the  world 
are,  as  his  biographer  says,  of  a  kind  not  to  be  overlooked. 
There  is  no  department  in  literature  or  science  or  philanthropy, 
no  organization  for  the  promulgation  of  religious  knowledge, 
which  does  not  owe  something  to  Francis  Bacon. 

To  him  the  patriot,  the  statesman,  the  law  reformer,  the 
scientific  jurist,  the  historian,  are  also  indebted,  and,  apart  from 
all  debatable  works,  the  collector  of  anecdote,  the  lover  of 
good  wit,  of  humourous  wisdom,  and  of  noble  writing,  must  all 
find  that  he  has  laid  them  under  obligations  far  greater  than 
they  may  be  aware  of.  It  is  bard,  indeed,  to  say  who  amongst 
us  is  not  the  easier  in  circumstances,  the  brighter  in  intellect, 
the  purer  in  morals,  the  worthier  in  conduct,  through  the  teach- 
ings and  the  labours  of  Francis  Bacon.  The  principles  of  his 
philosophy  are  of  universal  application,  and  they  will  endure  as 
long  as  the  world  itself. 

To  this  conclusion  must  those  come  who  contemplate  his  life 
and  works  from  the  standpoint  which  we  have  been  occupying. 
But  not  all  will  care  to  take  the  same  view.  Let  us,  therefore, 
shift  our  position  and  take  a  more  particular  observation  of 
some  circumstances  connected  with  Bacon  which  seem  to  be 
mysterious,  or  at  least  not  thoroughly  explained. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

DEFICIENCIES    OF    LEAENING    IN     THE    TIMES    OF   ELIZABETH 
AND  JAMES  I. 

"Defect  is  a  reptile  that  basely  crawls  upon  the  earth." — Bacon. 

"What  a  piece  of  work  is  man !  how  noble  in  reason !  how  infinite  in  fac- 
ulty !  .  .  .  Yet  man  delights  not  me.  .  .  What  should  such  fellows  as  I  do, 
crawling  between  heaven  and  earth  ? "  —  Hamlet. 

BEFORE  trying  to  follow  Bacon  in  his  inquiries  as  to  the 
deficiencies  of  learning,  let  us  reflect  upon  the  herculean 
nature  of  the  work  which  he  was  proposing  to  himself.  He 
might  satirise  his  own  vast  speculations;  he  may  even  have  heen 
perfectly  well  aware  that  his  enthusiastic  visions  could  never  he 
realised,  hut  a  universal  reformation  was  his  aim,  and  who  will 
say  that  he  failed  to  achieve  it  ? 

Those  "  good  old  times  "  in  which  Bacon  lived  were  anything 
hut  good ;  they  were  coarse,  ignorant,  violent,  "  dark  and 
dangerous."  The  church,  Bacon  said,  "which  should  he  the 
chief  hand  of  religion,  was  turned  to  superstition,  or  made  the 
matter  of  quarrelling  and  execrable  actions;  of  murdering 
princes,  butchery  of  people,  and  subversion  of  states  and  govern- 
ments. The  land  full  of  oppression,  taxation,  privileges  broken, 
factions  desperate,  poverty  great,  knowledge  at  a  standstill; 
learning  barren,  discredited  by  the  errors,  contentions,  conceit, 
and  fantastical  pedantry  of  so-called  learned  men.  The  literary 
spirit  of  the  ancients  dead.  At  the  universities  and  schools 
words  were  taught,  but  not  matter.  He  even  questions  whether 
it  would  not  be  well  to  abolish  the  scholastic  system  altogether, 
and  to  set  up  a  new  form  of  teaching.  The  list  of  sciences 
taught,  and  which  he  finds  to  be  full  of  follies  and  errors,  or 
totally  deficient,  forbids  any  wonder  at  his  verdict,  that,  whereas 
present  methods  were  rotten  and  useless  to  advance  learning, 

(158) 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  159 

the  old  fabric  should  be  rased  to  the  ground,  and  a  new  Solomon's 
House  erected. 

But  is  it  not  a  little  surprising  that,  even  if  Bacon  could  thus 
speak  in  his  early  days  of  the  ignorance,  the  folly,  the  futility 
of  the  learning  of  his  time,  the  dullness,  apathy,  or  ignorant 
bigotry  of  his  contemporaries,  the  degradation  of  the  stage,  the 
decay  of  the  wisdom  of  the  ancients,  the  barrenness  of  the  modern 
muse,  yet  that  we  should  find  him  reiterating,  with  even  more 
forcible  expressions,  these  same  opinions  at  the  very  end  of  his 
life?  In  his  crowning  work,  the  De  Augment  is,  published  in  1623, 
he  is  as  earnest  in  his  strictures  on  the  prevailing  learning  (or 
the  want  of  it)  as  he  was  in  the  days  of  his  youth.  Was  he  a 
detractor,  or  a  boastful,  self-satisfied  man,  who  could  see  no  good 
in  any  works  but  his  own?  Or  was  he  a  rash  and  inconsiderate 
speaker,  uttering  words  which  do  not  bear  the  test  of  time,  or 
which  were  confuted  and  rejected  by  his  contemporaries?  We 
turn  to  the  short  life  of  Bacon  by  his  secretary,  Dr.  Rawley,  a 
man  who  does  not  waste  words,  and  whose  statements  have 
become  classical  as  they  are  unassailably  accurate: 

"  He  was  no  dashing1  man,  as  some  men  are,  but  ever  a 
countenancer  and  fosterer  of  another  man's  parts.  Neither  was 
he  one  that  would  appropriate  the  speech  ivholly  to  himself,  or 
delight  to  outvie  others.  He  contemned  no  man's  observations, 
but  would  light  his  torch  at  every  man's  candle.  His  opinions 
ivere  for  the  most  part  binding,  and  not  contradicted  by  any, 
tvhich  may  ivell  be  imputed  either  to  the  well- weighing  of  his  sen- 
tences by  the  scales  of  truth  and  reason,  or  else  to  the  reverence 
and  estimation  in  tvhich  he  tvas  lield.  I  have  often  observed, 
and  so  have  other  men  of  great  account,  that  if  he  had  occasion 
to  repeat  another  man's  ivords  after  him,  he  had  an  use  and 
faculty  to  dress  them  in  better  vestments  and  apparel  than  they 
had  before,  so  that  the  author  should  find  his  own  speech  much 
amended,  and  yet  the  substance  of  it  still  retained,  as  if  it  had 
been  natural  to  him  to  use  good  forms,  as  Ovid  spake  of  his 
faculty  of  versifying: 

i  Rawley  means,  not  a  man  who  used  his  wit  to  put  others  out  of  coun- 
tenance. See  Costard  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  v.  2 :  "  An  honest  man,  look  you, 
and  soon  dashed."    Spedding,  Works,  ii.  12. 


160  FHANCIS  MACON 

'Ut  quod  tentabam  scribere,  versus  eraV  "  1 

Bacon's  most  malicious  enemies  have  not  attempted  to  con- 
tradict or  disprove  these  statements  of  one  of  his  most  intimate 
friends  and  faithful  "  servants. "  Why,  then,  does  Bacon  entirely 
ignore  the  unparalleled  outburst  of  learning,  the  prodigious  strides 
made  in  every  department  of  science,  the  spirit  of  inquiry  and 
of  longing  after  truth,  the  galaxy  of  wits  and  poets,  the  "  giant 
minds  "  with  whom,  so  we  are  told,  the  age  was  teeming?  We 
might  read  Bacon's  acknowledged  works  from  cover  to  cover 
without  suspecting  that  such  persons  as  Hooker  or  Ben  Jonson, 
Burton,  Spenser,  or  Shakspere,  ever  existed.  Comprehensive 
as  are  his  works,  summing  up  the  deficiencies  of  knowledge  in 
all  its  departments,  we  find  no  allusion  to  that  marvellous 
phenomenon— patent  apparently  to  all  eyes  but  those  of  Bacon 
himself—  of  the  sudden  and  simultaneous  revival  of  learning 
which  began  to  take  place  immediately  after  he  left  Cambridge 
at  the  age  of  fifteen 

The  great  impediments  of  knowledge,  and  the  points  which, 
in  Bacon's  judgment,  rendered  his  times  so  unfavourable  for  its 
advance,  were,  in  the  first  place,  the  scattering  or  "  diversion  " 
of  clever  men,  the  want  of  "  a  collection  of  wits  of  several  parts 
or  nations, "  and  of  any  system  by  which  wits  could  contribute 
to  help  one  another,  and  mutually  to  correct  errors  and  "  cus- 
tomary conceits." 

This  deficiency  was  the  cause  of  another  impediment  to  knowl- 
edge, the  lack,  namely,  of  any  means  for  keeping  "  a  succession 
of  wits  of  several  times,  whereby  one  might  refine  the  other." 
There  was  no  system  by  which  newly  acquired  knowledge  could 
be  handed  down,  for  the  manner  of  the  traditions  of  learned 
men  "  was  utterly  unfit  for  the  amplification  of  knowledge. " 

The  result  of  such  impediments  in  and  before  Bacon's  time 
was,  he  said,  such  as  to  lead  men  to  conclude,  either  that  knowl- 
edge is  but  a  task  for  one  man's  life  (and  then  vain  was  the 
complaint  that  life  is  short  and  art  is  long);  or  else  that  the 
knowledge  that  now  is,  is  but  a  shrub  and  not  that  tree  which  is 

1  u  Ho  lisped  in  numbers,  for  the  numbers  came."  (Pope's  Epistle  to  Dr. 
Arbuthnot.) 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  161 

never  dangerous  but  where  it  is  to  the  purpose  of  knowing  good 
and  evil  in  order  that  man  may  choose  the  evil.  A  desire  which 
rises  into  a  desire  rather  to  follow  one's  own  will  than  to  obey, 
contains,  he  says,  a  manifest  "  defection  "  or  imperfection. 

He  is  also  of  opinion  that  "  the  pretended  succession  of  wits, " 
such  as  it  is,  has  been  ill-placed,  and  that  too  much  absolute 
reliance  was  put  upon  the  philosophy  of  one  or  two  men  to 
the  exclusion  of  others.  Also  that  the  system  of  handling  phi- 
losophy by  parts,  and  not  as  a  whole,  was  very  injurious,  and 
a  great  impediment  to  knowledge.  He  deprecates  "  the  slip- 
ping-off  particular  sciences  from  the  root  and  stock  of  univer- 
sal knowledge,"  quoting  the  opinion  of  Cicero,  that  eloquence  is 
not  merely  "  a  shop  of  good  words  and  elegancies,1  but  a  treas- 
ury and  receipt  of  all  knowledges;  "  and  the  example  of  Socrates, 
who,  instead  of  teaching  "  an  universal  sapience  and  knowledge, 
both  of  words  and  matter,  divorced  them,  and  withdrew  philos- 
ophy, leaving  rhetoric  to  itself,  which  thereby  became  a  barren 
and  unnoble  science. " 

Bacon  argues  that  a  specialist  in  any  branch  of  science, 
"  whether  he  be  an  oculist  in  physic,  or  perfect  in  some  one 
tittle  of  the  law,  may  prove  ready  and  subtile,  but  not  deep  or 
sufficient,  even  in  the  one  special  subject  which  is  his  province  ; 
because  it  is  a  matter  of  common  discourse  of  the  chain  of  scien- 
ces, how  they  are  linked  together,'"  inasmuch  as  the  Grecians, 
who  had  terms  at  will,  have  fitted  it  of  a  name  of  circle  learning. 
Although  Bacon  speaks  of  this  chain  of  sciences  as  a  matter 
of  common  discourse,  it  seems  to  have  been  so  only  in  the  circle 
of  his  own  friends.  To  forge  such  links  and  to  weld  such  a  chain 
was,  it  would  seem,  one  part  of  his  method,  and  the  conventional 
design  which  represents  this  linking  together  of  universal  knowl  - 
edge,  both  earthly  and  heavenly,  is  to  be  seen  on  a  vast  number 
of  the  title-pages  and  ornamental  designs  of  the  books  which 
emanated  from  Bacon's  great  society  for  the  advancement  of 
learning.  As  a  rule  these  chains  will  be  found  in  combination 
with  a  figure  of  Pan,  or  universal  nature,  with  the  head  of  Truth, 


1  Compare  Bacon's  own  Promus  of  Formularies  and  Elegancies. 
11 


162  FRANCIS  BACON 

or  universal  philosophy  or  religion,  and  with  the  peculiar  wooden 
scroll  or  frame-work  which  we  interpret  as  figuring  "  the  uni- 
versal frame  of  the  world. " 

Since  then  the  end  and  scope  of  knowledge  had  heen  so  gen- 
erally mistaken  that  men  were  not  even  well-advised  as  to  what 
it  was  that  they  sought,  hut  wandered  up  and  down  in  the  way, 
making  no  advance,  but  setting  themselves  at  last  "  in  the  right 
way  to  the  wrong  place,"  Bacon  takes  in  hand  the  business  of 
demonstrating  "  what  is  the  true  end,  scope,  or  office  of  knowl- 
edge, and  to  make,  as  it  were,  a  calendar  or  inventory  of  the 
wealth,  furniture,  or  means  of  man,  according  to  his  present 
estate,  as  far  as  it  is  known. "  By  this  means,  he -adds,  "  I  may, 
at  the  best,  give  some  awaking  note,  both  of  the  wants  in  man's 
present  condition,  and  the  nature  of  the  supplies  to  be  wished; 
though,  for  mine  own  part,  neither  do  I  much  build  upon  my 
present  anticipations,  neither  do  I  think  ourselves  yet  learned  or 
wise  enough  to  wish  reasonably ;  for,  as  it  asks  some  knowledge 
to  demand  a  question  not  impertinent,  so  it  asketh  some  sense 
to  make  a  wish  not  absurd." 

Tlie  Interpretation  of  Nature,  from  which  these  passages  are 
taken,  includes  only  a  fragment  of  the  "  inventory,"  which  is  to 
be  found  in  the  form  of  a  separate  "  catalogue  "  of  one  hundred 
and  thirty  histories  which  are  required  for  the  equipment  of 
philosophy.  It  is  also  in  the  Be  Augmentis,  which  is  in  truth  an 
Exposition  of  the  Deficiencies  which  Bacon  noted  in  every  con- 
ceived branch  of  science  and  literature,  and  of  the  practical 
means  which  he  proposed  to  adopt  for  the  supply  of  these  tre- 
mendous gaps  in  the  chain  of  universal  knowledge. 

The  "  Catalogue  of  Histories  "  was  published  at  the  end  of  the 
Novum  Organum  in  1620,  but  it  appears  to  have  been  written 
much  earlier;  for  a  few  lines  at  the  end  show  that  at  the  time 
when  he  penned  this  list  he  was  looking  forward  to  the  accom- 
plishment of  all  that  is  included  in  it.  It  seems  improbable  that 
he  would,  so  late  in  life,  have  published  this  catalogue,  had  it 
been  merely  the  airy  fabric  of  a  vision.  On  the  other  hand, 
there<ire  works  extant  which  were  first  published  anonymously 
during  his  life-time,  and  which  answer  admirably  to  the  titles  of 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  163 

many  of  these  "particular  histories,"  which,  we  observe,  are 
not  necessarily  to  be  original  works,  but  "  collections  "  or  "  con- 
tributions to  the  equipment  of  philosophy."  In  other  words, 
they  were  to  be  the  furniture  and  household  stuff  of  the  new 
Solomon's  House. 

It  will  be  profitable  to  spend  a  few  minutes  in  noting  with 
Bacon  some  of  the  departments  of  knowledge  which  he  found 
to  be  either  totally  uncultivated,  or  so  weakly  handled  as  to  be 
unproductive.  In  so  doing  we  must  not  overlook  the  fact  that, 
in  every  case  where  he  notes  such  deficiencies,  he  makes,  as  he 
says,  some  effort  toward  supplying  them. 

Unless  we  take  some  pains  to  follow  Bacon's  meaning  and 
line  of  argument,  it  is  impossible  to  realize  what  is  meant  by 
his  statement  that  truth  was  barren  of  fruits  fit  for  the  use  of 
man.  Modern  teaching  and  traditions  as  to  the  marvellous 
revival  of  learning  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth  have  blinded  us  to 
the  fact  that  knowledge  was  at  the  very  lowest  ebb.  The  first 
attempt  made  by  William  Grocyn,  in  the  end  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  to  introduce  the  study  of  Greek  into  the  University  of 
Oxford,  was  regarded  as  an  alarming  innovation,  and  roused 
strong  opposition.  His  distinguished  pupil  John  Colet,  after- 
wards Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  and  founder  of  St.  Paul's  School,  was 
exposed  to  the  persecution  of  the  clergy  through  his  promotion 
of  a  spirit  of  inquiry  and  freedom  of  thought  and  speech.  We 
read  that  in  Paris,  about  the  same  time,1  "  The  Juris  Consult, 
Conrad  Heresbach,  affirms  that  he  heard  a  monk  announce 
from  the  pulpit,  'A  new  language,  called  Greek,  has  been  found, 
against  which  strict  precautions  are  requisite,  as  it  propagates 
all  kinds  of  heresie.  A  number  of  persons  have  already  pro- 
cured a  work  in  that  tongue  called  the  New  Testament  —  a  book 
full  of  briars  and  vipers.  As  to  Hebrew,  all  those  who  learn  it 
turn  Jews  at  once.'  " 

These  dense  prejudices  were  about  to  be  dissipated  by  the 
creation,  by  Francis  I.,  of  the  Royal  College.  Its  professors 
were  to  be  nominated  by  the   King,   regardless  of  university 

l  Francis  I.  and  His  Times.  C.  Coignet.  Translated  by  F.  Twemlow  Bent- 
ley.    London,  1888. 


164  FRANCIS  BACON 

degrees,  and  the  college  was  to  be  the  refuge  of  free-thinkers  of 
all  countries.  Such  an  innovation  was  reprobated  by  the 
pedants  of  the  old  school,  and  a  tempest  of  wrath  and  indigna- 
tion greeted  the  enterprise.  Beda,  syndic  of  the  theological 
faculty,  who  later  on  headed  a  religious  persecution,  was  a 
leader  in  this  contest,  and  in  this  curious  struggle  we  trace  the 
germ  of  the  conflict  between  Faith  and  Science,  between  Church 
and  State,  a  conflict  which  Bacon  spent  his  life  in  trying  to 
appease  and  terminate. 

Beda  pretended  that  religion  would  be  lost  if  Greek  and  He- 
brew were  taught  by  others  than  theologians.  Were  not  all 
Bibles  brought  from  that  heretical  nest,  Germany,  or  from  the 
Jews!  The  royal  professors  replied  :  We  are  not  theologians, 
but  grammarians  and  scholars.  If  you  understand  Greek  and 
Hebrew,  attend  our  classes  and  denounce  our  heresies ;  but  if 
you  do  not  understand  these  languages,  why  interfere  with  us? 

Parliament  was  puzzled  what  to  do.  Theology  and  Hebrew 
were  dead  letters  to  it.  King  Francis  was  in  fits  of  laughter  at 
its  evident  embarrassment.  Finally  it  decided  to  wash  its  hands 
of  the  affair,  and  to  leave  the  disputants  to  settle  it  amongst 
themselves.  Francis  now  completed  the  discomfiture  of  his 
adversaries  by  nominating  as  royal  printer  of  Hebrew  and 
Latin  classics  Robert  Estienne,  the  distinguished  editor  and 
typographer.  Theologians  detested  Estienne,  because  his 
translations  of  Holy  Writ  corrected  their  falsifications  and  mis- 
representations, and  exposed  their  ignorance  and  insincerity. 
His  first  translation  of  the  Hebrew  Bible  appeared  in  1532.  It 
was  denounced  as  sacrilegious,  and  its  author  as  meriting  the 
stake.  During  the  King's  absence  from  Paris,  Estienne's  house 
was  ransacked,  and  he  was  forced  to  fly.  But  on  the  King's  re- 
turn Estienne  was  reinstated.  Search  was  made  throughout 
Europe  and  Asia  for  the  old  manuscripts,  and  these  Estienne 
reproduced,  the  King  superintending,  with  great  interest,  the 
beauty  and  perfection  of  type,  destined,  as  these  books  were,  to 
enrich  his  magnificent  library  at  Fontainebleau. 

Amongst  the  distinguished  men  who,  in  these  early  days,  were 
connected  with  the  Royal  College  of  Francis  I.  are  the  names 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  165 

of  men  whose  works  were  afterwards  studied  and  quoted  by 
Bacon  and  his  own  school,  and  whose  successors  seem  to  have 
become  some  of  the  most  able  and  earnest  workers  on  behalf  of 
his  far  more  liberal  and  far-reaching  secret  society.  It  is  easy 
to  see  that  Bacon,  during  his  residence  in  the  French  court, 
must  almost  certainly  have  been  drawn  into  the  society  of  many 
members  of  this  Royal  College,  whose  duty  it  was  to  bring  be- 
fore the  notice  of  the  King  "  all  men  of  the  greatest  learning, 
wbether  French  or  foreigners." 

But,  in  spite  of  this  Royal  College,  learning  had  not  made 
much  advance,  even  in  France.  Although  Bacon  must  have 
witnessed  the  working  of  the  college  when  he  was  in  Paris,  yet 
he  says  nothing  in  its  praise.  The  method  was  as  faulty  as  ever, 
although  speech,  and  consequently  thought,  had  become  freer. 
Bacon's  chief  complaint  against  the  "  schoolmen,"  and  against 
the  ancient  philosophies,  was  not  so  much  regarding  their  mat- 
ter as  their  method.  The  matter  had  become  mere  words,  and 
the  continual  repetition  of  the  same  words  made  even  "  truth 
itself  tired  of  iteration. "  He  rightly  complained  that  the  writers 
of  his  time  only  looked  out  for  facts  in  support  of  preconceived 
theories,  or  else,  where  authority  and  prejudice  did  not  lead  the 
way,  constructed  their  theories  on  a  hasty  and  unmethodical 
examination  of  a  few  facts  collected  at  random.1  In  either  case 
they  neglected  to  test  or  verify  their  generalizations,  whilst  they 
wasted  time  and  study  in  drawing  out,  by  logical  arguments, 
long  trains  of  elaborate  conclusions,  which,  for  aught  they 
knew,  might  start  from  erroneous  theories. 

The  whole  of  Bacon's  teaching,  then,  goes  to  enforce  upon 
his  disciples  the  necessity  of  examining  and  proving  every  state- 
ment, trusting  to  no  "  authority, "  however  great,  whose  asser- 
tions or  axioms  cannot  stand  the  test  of  microscopic  inspection, 
or  which  are  not  seen  to  be  "  drawn  from  the  very  centre  of 
the  sciences." 

"  How  long, "  he  asks,  "  shall  we  let  a  few  received  authors 
stand  up  like  Hercules'  Columns,  beyond  which  there  shall  be  no 

l  See  au  excellent  and  yen-  clear  exposition  of  this  in  "  Francis  Bacon,"  by 
Prof.  Fowkr. 


166  FRANCIS  BACON 

sailing  or  discovery  in  science?"  He  proceeds  to  indicate  the 
various  parts  of  his  method  hy  which  learning  was  to  he  col- 
lected, rectified,  and  finally  stored  up  in  the  "  receptacles " 
which  he  would  have  provided  in  "  places  of  learning,  in  books, 
and  in  the  persons  of  the  learned."  In  other  words,  he  would 
provide  schools,  colleges,  and  libraries;  he  would  facilitate 
printing,  the  publication  of  good  books,  and  tbe  institution  of 
lectures,  with  paid  professors  of  all  arts  and  sciences.  We  look 
around,  and  are  overwhelmed  with  admiration  of  all  that  has 
been  accomplished  upon  Bacon's  method.  But  he  did  not  live 
to  see  it.  Doubtless  his  life  was  one  long  series  of  disappoint- 
ments, lightened  only  by  his  joyous,  hopeful  spirit,  and  by  the 
absolute  conviction  which  possessed  him  that  he  had  truth  on 
his  side,  and  that  "  Time,  that  great  arbitrator,  would  decide  "  in 
his  favour. 

"  Fpr  myself,"  he  says,  "  I  may  truly  say  that,  both  in  this 
present  work,  and  in  those  I  intend  to  publish  hereafter,  I  often 
advisedly  and  deliberately  throiv  aside  the  dignity  of  my  name 
and  wit  (if  such  thing  be)  in  my  endeavour  to  advance  human 
interests;  and  being  one  that  should  properly,  perhaps,  be  an  archi- 
tect in  philosophy  and  the  sciences,  I  turn  common  labourer,  hod- 
man, anything  that  is  wanted;  taking  upon  myself  the  burden 
and  execution  of  many  things  which  must  needs  be  done, 
and  which  others,  through  an  inborn  pride,  shrink  from  and 
decline."  * 

Dr.  Rawley  records  Bacon's  gentle  regret  that  he  that  should 
be  an  architect  in  this  erecting  and  building  of  the  new  phi- 
losophy "  should  be  forced  to  be  a  workman  and  a  labourer,  to 
dig  the  clay  and  make  the  brick,  and,  like  the  Israelites,  to 
gather  the  stubble  and  straw  over  all  the  fields,  to  burn  the 
bricks  withal.  But  he  knoweth  that,  except  he  do  it,  nothing 
will  be  done :  men  are  so  set  to  despise  the  means  of  their  own 
good.  And  as  for  the  baseness  of  many  of  the  experiments,  as 
long  as  they  be  God's  works,  they  are  honourable  enough ;  true 
axioms  must  be  drawn  from  plain  experience,  and  not  from 

1  De  Aug.  vii.  X. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  167 

doubtful,  and  his  course  is,  to-  make  wonders  plain,  and  not 
plain  things  wonders." 

So,  in  the  thousand  paragraphs  of  the  Natural  History,  or 
Sylva  Sylvarum,  we  find  each  paragraph  recording,  not  mere 
speculations,  or  repetitions  of  theories  or  conclusions  supposed 
to  have  been  established  by  former  philosophers,  but  reports  of 
experiments  (sometimes  very  strange  and  original)  made  always 
with  a  definite  object,  and  generally  accompanied  by  some 
remarks  explaining  the  causes  of  the  phenomena  observed. 
Bacon  is  never  ashamed  to  admit  his  own  ignorance  of  causes, 
and  nothing  which  tends  to  their  recovery  is,  in  his  eyes,  insig- 
nificant or  unimportant. 

"  It  is,"  he  says,  "  esteemed  a  kind  of  dishonour  to  learning, 
to  descend  into  inquiries  about  common  and  familiar  things, 
except  they  be  such  as  are  considered  secrets,  or  very  rare. " 
Plato,  he  says,  ridiculed  this  "  supercilious  arrogancy; "  and  "  the 
truth  is  that  the  best  information  is  not  always  derived  from 
the  greatest  examples,  but  it  often  comes  to  pass  that  mean  and 
small  things  discover  great,  better  than  great  can  discover  the 
small,  as  that  secret  of  nature,  the  turning  of  iron  touched  with 
the  loadstone  to  the  earth,  was  found  out  in  needles,  and  not  in 
bars  of  iron. " 

The  collector  of  facts  he  compares  to  the  ant  heaping  up  its 
store  for  future  use.  He  does  not  despise  the  ant,  but  com- 
mends its  intelligence,  as  superior  to  that  of  the  grasshopper, 
which,  like  the  mere  talker,  keeps  up  a  chirping  noise,  but  does 
no  work.  The  notes  which  he  collects  in  such  a  store  as  the 
Sylva  Sylvarum  (although,  as  we  firmly  believe,  ambiguous  in 
meaning,  and  in  their  more  important  bearings  symbolical  or 
parabolic)  give  a  good  idea  of  the  want  of  observation  and  gen- 
eral ignorance  in  Bacon's  times  on  matters  with  which  children 
in  the  poorest  schools  are  now  made  familiar.  Whatever  double 
purpose  this  work  on  Natural  History  may  have  had,  these  sim- 
ple notes  were  offered  to  the  public  as  interesting  and  instruct- 
ive information,  and  as  such  were  received  by  the  learned  in  the 
seventeenth  century. 
For  instance,  we  read  that  alkali  or  potash  is  used  in  making 


168  FRANCIS  BACON 

glass;  that  airs  may  be  wholesome  or  unwholesome;  that  some 
flowers  are  sweeter  than  others;  that  some,  but  not  all,  can  be 
distilled  into  perfumes;  that  some  have  the  scent  in  the  leaf,  as 
sweetbriar, 1  others  in  the  Mower,  as  violets  and  roses;  that 
most  odours  smell  best  crushed  or  broken;  that  excess  in  nourish- 
ment is  hurtful  — if  a  child  be  extremely  fat  it  seldom  grows  very 
tall;  all  mouldiness  is  a  beginning  of  decay  or  putrefaction;  heat 
dries  and  shrivels  things,  damp  rots;  some  parts  of  vegetables  and 
plants  are  more  nourishing  than  others;  yolks  of  eggs  are  more 
nourishing  than  the  whites;  soup  made  of  bones  and  sinews 
would  probably  be  very  nourishing ;  bubbles  are  in  the  form  of  a 
sphere,2  air  within  and  a  little  skin  of  water  without.  No  beast  has 
azure,  carnation  or  green  hair;3  mustard  provoketh  sneezing,  and 
a  sharp  thing  to  the  eyes,  tears.  Sleep  nourishes  —  after-dinner 
sleep  is  good  for  old  people.  Boiling  gives  a  bubbling  sound; 
mincing  meat  makes  it  easier  for  old  teeth;  Indian  maize  when 
boiled  is  good  to  eat;  flax  and  white  of  eggs  are  good  for  wounds. 

Now,  although  it  is  true  that  here  is  hardly  one  particular 
which  is  not  turned  to  excellent  account  in  the  Shakespeare 
plays,  and  in  many  minor  works  of  Bacon's  time,  it  is  impossible 
to  ignore  the  fact  that  Bacon  makes  notes  of  these  as  things  not 
generally  known;  that  the  book  in  which  he  registered  them  was 
not  published  until  after  his  death,  and  then,  as  we  are  espe- 
cially told,  with  the  notes  revised,  or  not  arranged  in  the  order 
in  which  they  were  written. 

Amongst  the  commonplaces  which  we  have  enumerated,  there 
are  other  statements  incorrect  as  they  are  picturesque  and 
poetical.  Probably  Bacon  did  not  believe  them  himself;  they 
are  often  introduced  with  some  such  modification  as  "  It  may 
be  that,"  or  "  It  is  said  that."  Thus  we  are  told  that  gums 
and  rock  crystals  are  the  exudations  of  stones ;  that  air  can  be 
turned  into  water,    water  into  oil ;  that  the  celestial  bodies  are 

1  "The  leaf  of  eglantine  out-sweetened  not  thy  breath."    Cymb.  iv.  2. 

2  See  Emblems  of  a  Bubble,  in  reference  to  the  'world. 

3  This  is  alluded  to  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  i.  2,  where  Pandarus  says  that 
they  are  laughing  at  the  white  hair  on  Troilus'  chin,  and  Cressida  answers :  "  A  n't 
had  been  &  green  hair,  I  should  have  laughed  too." 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  169 

most  of  them  true  fire  or  flames ;  that  flame  and  air  do  not  min- 
gle except  for  an  instant,  or  in  the  vital  spirits  of  vegetables 
and  living  creatures.  Everywhere  the  Paracelsian  and  very 
poetical  idea  of  the  vital  spirits  of  nature  is  perceptible,  and  the 
whole  of  these  notions  are  resolved  into  poetry  in  Shakespeare 
and  elsewhere.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  there  is  in 
the  plays  hardly  an  allusion  to  any  subject  connected  with  sci- 
ence or  natural  history  which  is  not  traceable  to  some  note  in 
these  commonplace  books,  the  apparently  dry  records  of  dis- 
jointed facts  or  experiments. 

Not  only  arts  and  arguments,  but  demonstrations  and  proofs 
according  to  analogies,  he  also  "  notes  as  deficient. "  And  here 
is  a  point  in  which  his  observations  are  distinctly  in  touch  with 
the  Rosicrucian  doctrines,  or,  to  put  it  more  accurately,  a  point 
in  which  the  Rosicrucians  are  seen  to  have  followed  Baconian 
doctrines.  For  they  made  it  a  rule  to  accept  nothing  as  scien- 
tific truth  which  did  not  admit  of  such  proof  and  demonstration 
by  experiment  or  analogy. 

As  an  example  of  the  deficiency  in  this  quarter,  Bacon  gives 
the  form  and  nature  of  light.1  That  no  due  investigation  should 
have  been  made  of  light,  he  considers  "  an  astonishing  piece  of 
negligence. "  Let  inquiry  be  made  of  it,  and,  meanwhile,  let  it 
be  set  down  as  deficient.  So  of  heat  and  cold,  of  flame,  of  dense 
things  and  rare,  of  the  nature  of  sulphur,  mercury,  salt,  and 
metals,  the  nature  of  air,  of  its  conversion  into  water,  and  of 
water  into  oil;  almost  everything,  in  fact,  which  we  now  call 
natural  science,  he  either  marks  among  the  deficients,  or  as 
being  handled  in  a  manner  of  which  he  "  prefers  to  make  no 
judgment." 

Since  doubts  are  better  than  false  conclusions,  Bacon  sets 
down  a  calendar  of  doubts  or  problems  in  nature  as  wanting, 
and  probably  few  students  of  works  of  the  class  here  indicated 
will  find  much  difficulty  in  identifying  the  works  written  to 
supply  these  needs. 


l  Here,  we  think,  is  the  customary  double  allusion,  light  being,  in  his  sym- 
bolic language,  synonymous  with  pure  truth. 


170  FRANCIS  BACON 

In  short,  Bacon  shows  that  the  sciences,  whether  of  natural 
philosophy,  physics,  or  chemistry,  were  in  a  parlous  state,  full 
of  barren  doctrines,  empty  theories,  and  bootless  inquisitions; 
that  if  ever  they  were  to  be  revived  and  made  to  bring  forth 
fruits  for  the  food  of  man,  they  must  be  "  proyned"  about  the 
roots,  nourished  and  watered,  lopped  of  an  infinite  number  of 
excrescences  and  useless  branches,  and  grafted  anew. 

So  with  all  the  allied  sciences  of  husbandry,  horticulture, 
distillation,  fermentation,  germination,  putrefaction,  etc.,  we 
have  but  to  consider  the  "  experiments, "  proposed  or  explained, 
in  the  Sylva  Sylvarum  (for  the  special  use,  as  we  believe,  of 
Bacon's  learned  brotherhood  or  "  Illuminati  "  ),  to  realise  the 
fact  that  the  world  {even  the  learned  world)  was  indeed  very 
ignorant,  and  that  these  scientific  studies  were  part  of  the  great 
"  birth  of  time,''  the  Renaissance,  the  seeds  and  weak  begin- 
nings which  time  should  bring  to  ripeness.  Many  of  these 
observations  are  repeated  in  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  which 
seems  to  be  another  "collection,"  this  time  the  sweepings  of 
Bacon's  commonplace  books  on  subjects  medical  and  metaphys- 
ical ;  a  detailed  examination  of  the  mutual  relations  between 
mind  and  body,  which  are  briefly  treated  of  in  the  Advance- 
ment of  Learning,  and  other  places. 

The  History  of  Winds  supplies  particulars  for  all  the  poetic 
allusions  to  meteorological  or  nautical  matters  which  are  met 
with  in  the  plays,  poems,  and  emblem  books  of  the  time.  Here 
it  will  be  seen  how  weirdly  and  exquisitely  these  studies  of 
meteorological  facts  are  interwoven  with  metaphysical  sub- 
tleties, such  as  are  met  with  in  Macbeth  and  The  Tempest. 
Meteorology  and  the  "  sane  astrology  "  which  Bacon  finds  to  be 
a  desideratum,  mix  themselves  up  with  the  science  of  medicine 
— in  his  time  "forsaken  by  philosophy, "  "a  weak  thing,  not 
much  better  than  an  empirical  art,"  "  a  science  more  practised 
than  laboured,  more  laboured  than  advanced;  the  labours  spent 
on  it  being  rather  in  a  circle  than  in  progression." 

As  for  the  art  of  prolonging  life,  he  "  sets  it  down  as  deficient, " 
and  writes  a  book  (apparently  with  a  double  meaning)  on  the 
subject.    The  History  of  Life  and  Death  is  bound  up  with  the 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  171 

Rosicrucian  New  Atlantis  and  the  Natural  History,  which  we 
believe  correspond  with  the  Librum  Natarce  of  the  fraternity, 
and  the  simple  remedies  and  recipes  which  Bacon  prescribes 
and  publishes  stand  as  records  of  the  elementary  state  of 
knowledge  in  his  time.  Metaphysics  lead  to  the  consideration  of 
the  doctrine  of  dreams— "  a  thing  which  has  been  laboriously 
handled  m&'full  of  follies. "  It  is  connected  with  the  "  doctrine 
of  the  sensible  soul,  which  is  a  fit  subject  of  inquiries,  even  as 
regards  its  substance,  but  such  inquiries  appear  to  me 
deficient."  l 

The  knowledge  of  human  nature,  of  men's  wants,  thoughts, 
characters,  is  also  entirely  neglected  yet.  "  The  nature  and  state 
of  man  is  a  subject  which  deserves  to  be  emancipated  and  made 
a  knowledge  of  itself. "  In  the  Sylva  Sylvarum  he  devotes  many 
paragraphs  to  preparations  for  advancing  this  much-neglected 
art,  noting  even  the  small  gestures  and  tokens  by  which  the 
body  of  man  reflects  and  betrays  the  mind.  These  notes 
furnish  a  compendium  of  hints  not  only  for  the  metaphysician, 
but  also  for  the  artist,  the  orator,  and  the  actor;  there  is  hardly 
one  which  is  not  sure  to  be  used  with  effect  in  the  Shakespeare 
plays. 

Let  us  sum  up  briefly  the  deficiencies  in  knowledge  which,  so 
far,  we  have  learnt  from  Bacon  to  observe  in  the  works  of  his 
predecessors,  but  which  were  being  rapidly  supplied  during  his 
life  and  in  the  succeeding  generation: 

Natural  Science,2  or  Physics  and  Chemistry,  with  experiments 
and  demonstrations  —  deficient. 

Natural  History?  excepting  a  few  books  of  subtleties,  varie- 
ties, catalogues,  etc.  —  deficient. 

Horticulture  and  Husbandry,4'  totally  or  partially  deficient. 

Meteorology5  in  all  its  branches  —  deficient. 

1  De  Aug.  iv.     Spedding,  iv.  372-379. 

2  See  Advancement  of  Learning  and  De  Augmentis ;  Nov.  Organum ;  Nf  w 
Atlantis;  Sylva  Sylvarum. 

3  Sylva  Sylvarum;  New  Atlantis;  Parasceve. 

4  Sylva  Sylvarum;  Ess.  Of  Gardens;  Plantations. 

5  Nov.  Org.;  Hist,  of  Winds;  Ebb  and  Flow  of  the  Sea,  etc. 


172  FRANCIS  BACON 

Astronomy, 1  weak,  with  good  foundations,  but  by  no  means 
sound. 

Astrology,2  not  to  be  despised,  but  not  practised  so  as  to  be 
useful  or  sane. 

Medicine,3  Pathology  and  the  Art  of  Prolonging  Life  — defic- 
ient. 

Metaphysics,*  or  the  Doctrine  of  the  Human  Soul,  and  of  the 
influence  of  mind  on  body — deficient. 

Physiognomy  and  Gestures,5  study  of  them  —  deficient. 

In  order  to  minister  to  the  extreme  poverty  of  science  in  all 
these  departments,  Bacon,  as  has  been  said,  drew  up  a  catalogue 
of  130  "  Histories  "  which  he  found  wanting,  and  which  he 
strove,  by  his  own  exertions,  and  with  help  from  friends,  to 
furnish,  or  at  least  to  sketch  out. 

Those  who  nourish  the  belief  that,  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
the  ordinary  scribe  or  author  could  pick  from  casual  reading,  by 
intercourse  in  general  society,  or  by  his  penny-worth  of  obser- 
vation, such  a  knowledge  of  scientific  facts  as  is  exhibited  (though 
in  a  simple  form)  in  the  best  plays  of  the  time,  will  do  well  to 
consider  this  catalogue,  and  to  reflect  that  the  particulars  in  it 
are,  for  the  most  part,  discussed  as  new  and  fruitful  branches  of 
information,  or  food  for  speculation,  in  the  works  of  Bacon.  To 
this  consideration  it  would  be  well  to  add  a  study  of  the  works 
of  a  similar  description  current  before  Bacon  began  to  publish,  and 
to  see  how  much  of  the  "  popular  science  "  which  we  connect  with 
Bacon  was  known,  say,  in  the  year  1575,  beyond  the  walls  of  the 
monastery  or  the  cell  of  the  philosopher.  Then  see  how  far 
such  knowledge  reappears  in  any  pre-Baconian  poetry. 

Bacon's  method,  says  Spedding,  in  his  dialogue  with  Ellis, 
"  presupposed  a  History  (or  dictionary  as  you  call  it)  of  universal 
nature,  as  a  storehouse  of  facts  to  tvork  ow."6     In  these  words 

1  Thema  Cceli. 

2  Do  Aug.;  Sylva  Sylvarum. 

3  Hist.  Life  and  Death,  etc.;  Ess.  Eegimen  of  Health,  Recipes,  etc. 

4  Doctrine  of  the  Human  Soul;  De  Aug.,  etc.,  etc. 

5  De  Aug.;  Sylv.  Sylv. 

6  Spedding,  Works,  Preface  to  Parasceve. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  173 

the  speaker  uses  the  term  expressing  the  idea  of  Promus  et 
Condus  —  the  idea  of  a  store  from  which  things  new  and  old 
should  be  drawn,  of  a  store  of  rough  material  from  which  perfect 
pieces  should  be  produced.  Such  a  store  he  was  himself  en- 
gaged in  making. 

To  Spedding's  inquiry  his  interlocutor  replies :  "  Bacon  wanted 
a  collection  large  enough  to  give  him  the  command  of  all  the 
avenues  to  the  secrets  of  nature."  It  almost  seems  as  if  Mr. 
Ellis  were  quoting  from  the  Promus  itself,  where  many  hints 
seem  to  be  given  of  Bacon's  proposals  for  working  his  secret 
society,  and  where  we  find  these  entries:  "  Avenues—  Secrett 
de  Dieu;  Secrett  de  Dieu."  Are  not  these  secrets  of  God  cor- 
respondent to  the  secrets  of  nature  to  which  Bacon  would  open 
avenues?  Are  they  not  the  "  things  "  known  to  the  soothsayer 
who  confesses,  when  taxed  with  his  unusual  knowledge: 
"  In  nature's  infinite  book  of  secresy 
A  little  I  can  read."  1 
And  we  cannot  fail  to  observe  that  the  study  of  such  things 
was  attended  with  some  perils  to  the  student  whose  object  was 
to  keep  them  as  much  as  possible  out  of  sight  and  screened 
from  hostile  observation.  The  catalogue,  instead  of  being  in- 
corporated, as  one  would  naturally  expect,  with  the  treatise 
itself,  is  detached  from  it,  and  sometimes  omitted  from  the  pub- 
lication. Some  of  the  entries,  moreover,  are  incomprehensible, 
excepting  on  the  assumption  that  they,  again,  moralise  two 
meanings  in  one  word — of  which  more  anon. 

But,  we  hear  it  said,  "  Grant  that  science,  in  modern  accepta- 
tion of  the  term,  was  a  new  thing  in  Bacon's  time,  and  that  he 
held  nearly  every  department  in  it  to  be  deficient ;  what  of  that? 
Grant  that  there  was  then  no  such  thing  as  popular  teaching  on 
these  subjects,  and  that  all  branches  of  science  have  made 
tremendous  strides  during  the  past  century.  The  same  argu- 
ments cannot  apply  to  the  literature  of  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries.  Have  we  not  all  been  taught  that  those  were 
the  times  when   Spenser  and  Shakespeare  grew  to  their  full 

1  Ant.  and  Clco.  i.  2 


174  FRANCIS  BACON 

powers,  Spenser  representing-  England  vviLh  its  religious  sense  of 
duty  combative;  Shakespeare,  enabled  by  that  English  earnest- 
ness to  speak  through  the  highest  poetry  the  highest  truth? 
That  the  depths  were  stirred,  and  the  spirit  of  the  time  drew 
from  the  souls  of  men  the  sweetest  music,  ennobling  and  elevat- 
ing rough  soldiers,  mechanics,  and  country  louts  into  poets  of 
the  highest  degree?  " 

But  in  truth  Bacon  condemned  the  literary  part  of  the 
knowledge  of  his  own  time  before  he  touched  upon  the  scientific 
part,  although,  for  convenience,  the  order  is  here  reversed.  The 
second  book  of  the  Advancement  treats  of  "  the  Divisions  of  the 
Sciences. "  There  "  all  human  learning  "  is  divided  into  History, 
Poesy,  and  Philosophy,  with  reference  to  the  three  intellectual 
faculties,  Memory,  Imagination,  Reason,  and  we  are  shown  that 
the  same  holds  good  in  theology  or  divinity. 

History  he  again  divides  into  natural  and  civil  (which  last 
includes  ecclesiastical  and  literary  history),  and  natural  history 
is  subdivided  into  histories  of  generations  and  arts,  and  into 
natural  history,  narrative  and  inductive.  So  we  see  that  the 
science  comes  last  in  Bacon's  contemplations  and  method, 
although,  in  the  chair  of  sciences,  it  connects  itself  with  the  first 
part  of  human  learning — history.  But  here  at  once  he  discovers 
a  deficiency.  "The  history  of  learning— without  which  the 
history  of  the  world  seems  to  me  as  the  statue  of  Polyphemus 
without  the  eye,  that  very  feature  being  left  out  which  marks 
the  spirit  and  life  of  the  person — I  set  down  as  wanting."  As 
usual  he  gives  a  summary  of  the  requisites  for  this  work,  and 
the  best  method  of  compiling  such  a  history  from  the  principal 
works  written  in  each  century  from  the  earliest  ages,  "  that  by 
tasting  them  here  and  there,  and  observing  their  argument, 
style,  and  method,  the  literary  spirit  of  each  age  may  be 
charmed,  as  it  were,  from  the  dead." 

Such  a  history  would,  he  considers,  greatly  assist  the  skill  of 
learned  men.  "  It  would  exhibit  the  movements  and  pertur- 
bations which  take  place  no  less  in  intellectual  than  in  civil 
matters.  In  short,  it  would  be  a  step  toward  the  true  study 
of  human  nature,"  which  was  his  aim. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  175 

Civil  history,  though  pre-eminent  amongst  modern  writings, 
he  finds  to  be  "  beset  on  all  sides  by  faults, "  and  that  there  is 
nothing  rarer  than  a  true  civil  history,  which  he  subdivides  into 
Memorials,  Commentaries,  Perfect  History,  and  Antiquities. 
"  For  memorials  are  the  rough  drafts  of  history,  and  antiquities 
are  history  defaced,  or  remnants  of  history,  which,  like  the  spars 
of  a  shipwreck,  have  recovered  somewhat  from  the  deluge  of 
time. " 

No  defects  need  be  noticed  in  the  annals,  chronologies,  registers, 
and  collections  of  antiquities,  which  he  classes  with  "  imperfect 
histories."  They  are  of  their  very  nature  imperfect,  but  they 
are  not  to  be  condemned  like  epitomes,  "things  which  have 
fretted  and  corroded  the  bodies  of  most  excellent  histories,  and 
wrought  them  into  unprofitable  dregs. "  There  are  many  collec- 
tions, annals,  chronologies,  chronicles,  commentaries, registers, 
etc.,  which  began  to  appear  in  Bacon's  time,  in  accordance  with 
his  instructions  and  suggestions,  if  not  with  direct  help  from 
him. 

"  Just  and  perfect  history  is  of  three  kinds,  according  to  the 
object  which  it  propoundeth  or  pretendeth  to  present;  for  it  pre- 
senteth  either  a  time  or  a  person  or  an  action.  The  first  of  these 
we  call  Chronicles,  the  second  Lives,  and  the  third  Narratives. 
Though  the  first  be  the  most  complete,  and  hath  most  glory,  yet 
the  second  excelleth  it  in  use,  and  the  third  in  truth.  For  history 
of  times  representeth  the  greatness  of  actions,  and  the  public  faces 
and  behaviour  of  persons;  it  passeth  over  in  silence  the  smaller 
events  and  actions  of  men  and  matters.  But  such  being  the 
workmanship  of  God,  that  He  doth  hang  the  greatest  weight 
upon  the  smallest  wires,1  it  comes  to  pass  that  such  histories  do 
rather  set  forth  the  pomp  of  business  than  the  true  and  inward 
resorts  (or  springs)  thereof.  Insomuch  that  you  may  find  a  truer 
picture  of  human  life  in  some  satires  than  in  such  histories." 
But  well-written  "  lives  and  histories  are  likely  to  be  more 
purely  true,  because  their  argument  is  within  the  knowledge 
and  observation  of  the  writer.2    All  three  kinds  of  history  are, 

1  "  Thus  hast  thou  hang'd  our  life  on  brittle  pins."  Translation  of  Psl.  SC. 
"The  whole  frame  stands  upon  pins."    2d  Henry  IV.  iii.  2. 

2  Advt.  ii.  1. 


176  FRANCIS  BACON 

nevertheless,  "  so  full  of  many  and  great  deficiencies,"  that  he 
says:  "  Even  to  mention  them  would  take  too  much  time. "  He 
would  himself  have  undertaken  the  business  in  good  earnest 
if  James  had  given  him  any  encouragement.  But  in  this,  as  in 
many  other  things,  he  failed  to  rouse  the  dull  King,  whom  he 
vainly  tried  to  make  as  wise  as  he  thought  himself.  The  frag- 
ment of  the  "  History  of  Great  Britain  "  hints  at  Bacon's  efforts 
in  this  direction,  and  there  are  several  large  books  which  will 
probably  some  day  be  acknowledged  as  part  of  the  "  collections" 
made  by  Bacon,  or  under  his  direction,  to  this  end.1 

For  lives,  he  thinks  it  most  strange  that  they  have  been  so 
neglected,  and  counts  them  among  the  deficients. 

Narrations"  and  relations  are  also  to  be  wished,  since  a  good 
collection  of  small  particulars  would  be  as  a  nursery -ground, 
raising  seedlings  to  plant  when  time  will  serve  a  fair  and  stately 
garden.2 

Other  parts  of  learning,  as  appendices  to  history,  as  orations, 
letters,  brief  speeches  or  sayings  and  letters,  he  considers  an  im- 
portant branch  of  history.  "  Letters  are  according  to  the  variety 
of  occasions,  advertisements,  advices,  directions,  propositions, 
petitions,  commendatory,  expostulatory,  satisfactory,  of  com- 
pliment, of  pleasure,  of  discourse,  and  all  other  passages  of  action. 
And  such  as  are  written  from  wise  men  are,  of  all  the  words  of 
man,  in  my  judgment,  the  best,  for  they  are  more  natural  than 
orations  and  public  speeches,  and  more  advised  than  conferences 
or  present  speeches.  So,  again,  letters  of  affairs,  from  such  as 
manage  them  or  are  privy  to  them,  are,  of  all  others,  the  best 
instructions  for  history  and,  to  a  diligent  reader,  the  best  his- 
tories in  themselves."  3 

Bacon's  own  letters  are,  of  themselves,  a  good  illustration  of 
his  doctrine;  but  there  are  other  collections  of  letters,  such  as 
Sir  Tobie  Matthew's  correspondence,  with  names  and  dates  can- 

1  See  "The  Chronicles  of  the  Kings  of  England  from  the  Time  of  the  Romans 
Government  to  the  Death  of  King  James."  By  Sir  Samuel  Baker.  On  the  front- 
ispiece of  the  third  edition  is  a  vignette  of  Verulam. 

2  De  Aug.  ii.  7.  See,  also,  "The  Collection  of  the  History  of  England." 
Samuel  Daniel,  3d  edn.  lC3ii. 

3  Advt.  ii.  1. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  177 

celled,  and  the  collection  by  Howell,  entitled  HoraEliancs,  which 
seem  as  if  they  had  been  written  with  a  further  purpose  than 
that  of  mere  correspondence  between  friend  and  friend.  The 
vast  chasm,  in  point  of  dictiou,  between  these  and  the  letters 
written  by  ordinary  persons  of  good  breeding  and  education  in 
Bacon's  time,  may  be  well  gauged  by  a  comparison  with  them  of 
the  sixteen  folio  volumes  of  Anthony  Bacon's  correspondence  at 
the  library  belonging  to  Lambeth  Palace,  or  the  letters  in  the 
Cottouian  and  Hatton  Finch  collections  at  the  British  Museum. 

Next,  Baccn  commends  the  collecting  of  apophthegms  or  witty 
sayings.  "  The  loss  of  that  book  of  Caesar's"  is,  he  thinks,  a 
misfortune,  since  no  subsequent  collection  has  been  happy  in  the 
choice.  His  own  collection,  with  the  supplementary  anecdotes, 
which  are  sometimes  ranked  as  "  spurious,"  still  remain  to  us; 
the  former,  we  think,  possessing  a  double  value,  inasmuch  as  it 
seems  probable  that,  in  one  edition  at  least,  it  forms  a  kind  of 
cipher  or  key  to  the  meaning  of  other  works. 

As  to  the  heathen  antiquities  of  the  world,  "  it  is  in  vain  to 
note  them  as  deficient, "  for,  although  they  undoubtedly  are  so, 
consisting  mostly  of  fables  and  fragments,  "  the  deficiency  can- 
not be  holpen;  for  antiquity  is  like  fame  —  caput  inter  nubile 
condit—  her  head  is  muffled  from  our  sight."1  He  does  not 
allude  to  his  own  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients,  or  to  other  kindred 
works,  which,  although  they  seem  to  have  b<jen  published  later, 
yet  bear  traces  of  having  been  the  more  difiuse  and  cruder  studies 
which  were  the  eaily  products  of  Bacon's  youthful  studies.2 

He  draws  attention  to  the  history  which  Cornelius  Tacitus 
made,  coupling  this  with  annals  and  journals,  which  again  he 
finds  to  be  in  his  own  day  deficient. 

We  observe  that  no  hint  is  dropped  about  Camden's  Annals. 
The  omission  is  the  more  significant,  seeing  that  in  that  work  we 
have  before  us  Bacon's  own  notes  and  additions. 

Now  he  passes  on  to  "  Memorials,  commentaries,  and  regis- 
ters, which  set  down  a  bare  continuance  and  tissue  of  actions 

1  Advt.  iii.  1. 

2  See  particularly  Mystagogus  Poeticus,  or  the  Muses'  Interpreter,  2nd  edn., 
much  enlarged  by  Alexander  Koss,  1648. 

12 


178  FRANCIS  BA  CON 

and  events,  without  the  causes  and  pretexts,  and  other  passages 
of  action ;  for  this  is  the  true  nature  of  a  commentary,  .though 
Caesar,  in  modesty  mixed  with  greatness,  chose  to  apply  the 
name  of  commentary  to  the  best  history  extant."  1  There  are 
some  "  Observations  on  Caesar's  Commentaries  "2  which  are  de- 
serving of  notice  in  connection  with  this  subject,  although  they 
bear  on  the  title-page  the  name  of  Clement  Edmundes,  yet  that 
very  title-page  is  adorned  with  a  portrait  which  strikingly  resem- 
bles portraits  of  Francis  Bacon.  Here  he  is  as  a  lad  of  about 
sixteen  years  old,  and  the  internal  evidence  of  the  work  renders 
it  highly  probable  that  this  was  merely  one  of  his  many  juvenile 
productions.  Several  other  works  of  a  similar  nature,  with 
some  geographical  manuals,  such  as  "  Microcosmus,  or  a 
Little  Picture  of  a  Great  World,"  and  large  works,  such  as  the 
"  Discovery  of  Guiana  "  and  "  A  History  of  the  World  "  (in 
which  history,  politics,  and  personal  adventure  are  largely  inter- 
mixed with  geography),  began  to  make  their  appearance 
about  this  time,  and  assisted  in  completing  Bacon's  great  plan 
for  the  dissemination  of  universal  knowledge.  He  affirms,  "  to 
the  honourof  his  times  andin  a  virtuous  emulation  with  antiquity, 
that  this  great  Building  of  the  World  never  had  through  lights 
made  in  it  till  the  age  of  us  and  our  fathers.  For,  although  they 
had  knowledge  of  the  antipodes,  yet  that  might  be  by  demon- 
stration and  not  by  fact,  and  if  by  travel,  it  requireth  the  voy- 
age but  of  half  the  globe.  But  to  circle  the  earth,  as  the 
heavenly  bodies  do,  was  not  done  nor  attempted  till  these  later 
times,  and  therefore  these  times  may  justly  bear  in  their  word 
not  only  plus  ultra  in  precedence  of  the  ancient  non  ultra,  and 
imitabile  ful  men  in  precedence  of  the  ancient  non  imitabile  ful- 
men,  etc.,  but,  likewise,  imitabile  caelum,  in  respect  of  the  many 
memorable  voyages,  after  the  manner  of  heaven,  about  the  globe 
of  the  earth. " 

He  never  loses  sight  of  the  great  object  which  he  has  at  heart, 
of  bringing  lights  into  the  darkness  in  which  the  world  is  lying; 
never  for  an  instant  forgets  his  darling  hope  that  the  advance- 
— — & 

1  Do  Aug.  ii.  6. 

2  Published,  Lo-mides,  1609. 


,  AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  179 

ment  of  geographical  knowledge  may  be  made  a  means  of 
"  mingling  heaven  and  earth. "  When  considering  the  deficien- 
cies not  only  of  knowledge,  but  of  language  in  which  to  express 
knowledge,  it  will  not  be  amiss  to  draw  attention  to  the  words 
of  Hallam  concerning  the  works  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,1  especially 
"  The  History  of  the  World. "  The  readershould  reflect  whether 
it  is  more  probable  that  the  adventurous  soldier  and  busy  man 
of  the  world  should  have  been  capable  of  writing  such  a  book  as 
the  one  in  question  (filled  as  it  is  with  Baconian  beauties  of  dic- 
tion and  sentiment),  or  that  Bacon,  visiting  his  interesting  friend 
in  the  Tower,  should  have  induced  him  to  beguile  the  tedious 
day  and  drive  away  the  heavy  thoughts  of  care  by  writing  or 
compiling,  with  his  help,  the  work  to  which  Sir  Walter  con- 
tributed the  experience  of  his  own  travels,  but  for  which  Bacon 
himself  furnished  the  plan,  the  erudition,  and  the  diction. 

"  We  should,"  says  Hallam,  "  expect  from  the  prison-hours 
of  a  soldier,  a  courtier,  a  busy  intriguer  in  state  affairs,  a  poet, 
and  a  man  of  genius,  something  well  worth  our  notice;  but 
hardly  a  prolix  history  of  the  ancient  world,  hardly  disquisitions 
on  the  site  of  Paradise  and  the  travels  of  Cain.  The  Greek 
and  Roman  story  is  told  more  fully  and  exactly  than  by  any 
earlier  English  author,  and  with  a  plain  eloquence  which  has 
given  this  book  a  classical  reputation  in  our  language.  Raleigh 
has  intermingled  political  reflections  and  illustrated  his  history 
by  episodes  from  modern  times,  which  perhaps  are  now  the  most 
interesting  passages.  It  descends  only  to  the  second  Macedonian 
war.  There  is  little  now  obsolete  in  the  words  of  Raleigh,  noi 
to  any  great  degree  in  his  turn  of  phrase;  ...  he  is  less  pedantic 
than  most  of  his  contemporaries,  seldom  low,  never  affected. " 

Not  science  only,  or  natural  history,  or  the  history  of  the 

world  and  of  individuals,  but  arts  and  inventions  of  all  kinds 

•  were,  in  Bacon's  opinion,  equally  "at  a  standstill."     "As  to 

philosophy,  men  worship  idols,  false  appearances,  shadoivs,  not 


1  It  is  not  unworthy  of  inquiry,  "Was  Raleigh  (whose  name  is  variously  spelt) 
any  relation  of  the  Dr.  Rawley  who  was  Bacon's  chaplain  and  confidential  sec- 
retary 1 


180  FRANCIS  BACON 

substance;  l  they  satisfy  their  minds  with  the  deepest  fallacies. 
The  methods  and  frameworks  which  I  have  hitherto  seen,  there 
is  none  of  any  worth,  all  of  them  carry  in  their  titles  the  face 
of  a  school  and  not  of  a  world,  having  vulgar  and  pedantical 
divisions,  not  such  as  pierce  the  heart  of  things." 

Then,  for  the  art  of  memory,  "  the  inquiry  seems  hitherto  to 
have  heen  pursued  weakly  and  languidly  enough;  ...  it  is  a 
harreu  thing,  as  now  applied  for  human  uses.  The  feats  of 
memory  now  taught,  I  do  esteem  no  more  than  I  do  the  tricks  and 
antics  of  clowns  and  rope-dancers1  matters, 2  perhaps  of  strange- 
ness, hut  not  of  worth. '' 

Passing  from  natural  and  physical  science  to  philology,  or,  as 
Bacon  calls  it,  "  philosophic  grammar, "  we  again  find  it  "  set 
down  as  wanting."  "  Grammar,"  he  says,  "  is  the  harbinger  of 
other  sciences — an  office  not  indeed  very  noble,  hut  very 
necessary,  especially  as  sciences,  in  our  age,  are  principally 
drawn  from  the  learned  languages,  and  are  not  learned  in  our 
mother's  tongue.  .  .  .  Grammar,  likewise,  is  of  two  sorts — the 
one  being  literary,  the  other  philosophical. "  The  first  of  these 
is  used  chiefly  in  the  study  of  foreign  tongues,  especially  in  the 
dead  languages,  hut  "  the  other  ministers  to  philosophy."  This 
reminds  him  that  Csesar  wrote  some  hooks  on  "  analogy, "  and 
a  doubt  occurs  whether  they  treated  of  this  kind  of  philosophical 
grammar.  Suspecting,  however,  that  they  did  not  contain  any- 
thing subtle  or  lofty,  he  takes  the  hint  as  to  another  deficiency, 
and  thinks  "  of  a  kind  of  grammar  which  should  diligently 
inquire,  not  the  analogy  of  words  with  one  another,  hut  the 
analogy  between  words  and  things,  or  reason,  not  going  so  far 
as  that  interpretation  which  belongs  to  logic.  Certainly  words 
are  the  footsteps  of  reason,  and  the  footsteps  tell  something 
about  the  body.  .  .  .  The  noblest  kind  of  grammar,  as  I  think, 
would  be  this:   If  some  one  well  seen  in  a  number  of  tongues, 

1  Compare:  "He  takes  false  shadows  for  true  substances."  (Tit.  And.  iii.  2.) 
"Tour  falsehood  shall  become  you  well  to  worship  shadows  and  adore  false 
shapes."  (Tw.  G.  Ver.  iv.  1,  123-131.)  Mer.  Wiv.  ii.  2,  215.  Mer.  Yen.  iii.  2, 
126-130;  and  comp.  1.  73-80.    Richard  II.  ii.  2,  14.     1  Henry  VI.  ii.  3,  62,  63. 

2  This  line  seems  to  throw  light  upon  Petrueio's  powers  of  vituperative 
rhetoric — "He'll  rail  in  his  rope  tricks."     (Tarn.  Sh.  i.  2.) 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  181 

learned  as  well  as  common,  would  handle  the  various  properties 
of  languages,  showing  in  what  points  each  excelled,  in  what  it 
failed.  For  so,  not  only  may  languages  be  enriched  by  mutual 
exchanges,  but  the  several  beauties  of  each  may  be  combined, 
as  in  the  Venus  of  Apelles,  into  a  most  beautiful  image  and 
excellent  model  of  speech  itself,  for  the  right  expression  of  the 
meanings  of  the  mind." 

As  in  everything  else  which  Bacon  noted  as  unattempted  or 
unachieved,  we  find  him  endeavoring  to  supply  the  deficiencies 
in  language  which  were  universal  in  his  day.  He- does  not  hint 
that  Ben  Jonson,  Shakespeare,  and  others  had  been  for  years 
pouring  Latin  words  into  our  language,  trying  experiments  in 
words  which  had  never  been  tried  before,  coining,  testing,  and 
rejecting,  in  the  same  manner,  precisely,  in  which  Bacon  himself 
was  coining,  testing,  rejecting,  or  making  current,  the  new 
words  which  he  entered  in  his  Promus.  That  he  was  coining, 
intentionally,  we  know  from  his  habit  of  supplementing  his  new 
word  with  its  nearest  synonym,  and  also  from  the  frequent 
recurrence  of  such  expressions  as:  "  So  I  call  it, »  "  As  it  were, " 
"  As  I  term  it,"  etc. 

Bacon  suggests i  the  making  of  "  a  store  "  of  forms  of  speech, 
prefaces,  conclusions,  digressions,  transitions,  excusations,  and 
a  number  of  the  kind,  as  likewise  deficient.  He  subjoins 
specimens  of  these.  "  Such  parts  of  speech  answer  to  the 
vestibules,  back-doors,  ante-chambers,  withdrawing- chambers, 
passages,  etc.,  of  a  house,  and  may  serve,  indiscriminately,  for  all 
subjects.  For  as,  in  buildings,  it  is  a  great  matter,  both  for 
pleasure  and  use,  that  the  fronts,  doors,  windows,  approaches, 
passages,  and  the  Hke,  be  conveniently  arranged,  so,  also,  in 
a  speech,  such  accessories  and  passages,  if  handsomely  and 
skilfully  placed,  add  a  great  deal,  being  both  of  ornament  and 
effect  to  the  entire  structure. "  Surely  he  is  here  thinking  of 
the  construction  of  his  Solomon's  House.  He  then  gives  a  few 
instances  from  Demosthenes  and  Cicero,  having  "  nothing  of  his 
own  to  add  to  this  part."  Nothing,  he  means,  which  he  chose 
to  publish  at  that  time,  as  a  store  of  the  kind.     That  he  had  it, 

1  DeAug.  vi.  3,  492. 


182  FRANCIS  BACON 

and  had  used  it  in  all  his  works  for  thirty  or  forty  years,  and 
with  marvellous  effect,  we  now  know  well  from  the  internal 
evidence  of  those  works.  In  the  Promus  is  a  consecutive  list 
of  one  hundred  and  twenty-six  short  expressions  of  single 
words,  and  farther  on  eighty  more,  which  are  all  to  be  found  in 
the  early  Shakespeare  plays,  and  more  rarely  elsewhere.  Some  of 
these,  such  as  "  0  my  L.  S. ''  (the  "  0  Lord,  Sir, "  of  Love's  Labour's 
Lost  and  AWs  Well),  are  dropped  in  later  plays.  But  by  far 
the  larger  number,  as  "Believe  me,"  "What  else?"  "Is  it 
possible ?  "  "  For  the  rest,"  "  You  put  me  in  mind,"  "  Nothing 
less,"  "  Say  that,"  etc.,  are  met  with  throughout  all  the  works 
which  will  hereafter  be  claimed  as  Bacon's.  Most  of  these 
expressions  are  now  such  familiar  and  household  terms  that  it 
seems  strange  to  imagine  that  three  hundred  years  ago  they 
were  not  in  everybody's  mouth.  What  would  be  thought  if  it 
were  found  that  any  great  orator  of  our  own  time  had  written 
down,  intermixed  with  literary  notes,  which  were  carefully 
preserved,  such  notes  as  these  :  "  Will  you  see?  "  "  You  take  it 
right,"  "  All  this  while, "  "As  is,"  "I  object,"  "I  demand," 
"  Well,"  "  More  or  less,"  "  Prima  facie,"  "  If  that  be  so,"  "  Is 
it  because?  "  "  What  else?  "  "  And  how  now?  "  "  Best  of  all," 
"  I  was  thinking, "  "  Say,  then, "  "  You  put  me  in  mind, "  "  Good 
morning,"  "  Good  night  "? 

Yet  these  are  amongst  the  private  notes  "  for  store  of  forms 
and  elegancies  of  speech. "  They  are  of  the  kind  which  Bacon, 
in  his  learned  works,  describes  as  deficient;  which,  even  in  his 
last  great  work,  the  De  Augmcntis,  he  still  pronounces  to  be 
deficient  and  mucli  needed  for  the  building-up  of  a  noble  model 
of  language.  Can  we  doubt  that  in  such  collections  as  this  we 
see  Bacon  in  labourer's  clothes,  digging  the  clay  and  gathering 
the  stubble  from  all  over  the  desolate  fields  of  learning,  to  burn 
the  bricks  wherewith  he  would  rebuild  the  temple  of  wisdom? 

Careful  study  and  examination  of  these  questions  will  surely 
prove  that  to  Francis  Bacon  we  owe,  not  only  the  grand  specu- 
lative philosophy  and  the  experimental  science  which  are  associ- 
ated with  his  name,  and  a  vast  number  of  works  unacknowledged 
by  him,  though  published  during  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  183 

centuries,  but  also  the  very  language  in  which  those  books 
are  written,  the  "  noble  model  of  language  "  which  has  never 
been  surpassed,  and  which  constitutes  the  finest  part  of  the 
finest  writing  of  the  present  day. 

Now,  to  return  to  our  hasty  sketch  of  deficiencies  in  gram- 
mar and  philology,  we  find,  as  might  be  expected,  that,  inas- 
much as  words  and  graceful  forms  of  speech  were  lacking,  and 
the  very  machinery  or  organs  of  discourse  imperfect,  so  "  the 
proper  rational  method  of  discourse, 1  or  rhetoric,  fpr  the  trans- 
mission of  knowledge,  has  been  so  handled  as  to  defeat  its 
object. "  Logicians,  by  their  artificial  methods,  have  "  so  forced 
the  kernels  and  grains  of  the  sciences  to  leap  out,  that  they  are 
left  with  nothing  in  their  grasp  but  the  dry  and  barren  husks. " 

Changing  the  metaphor,  Bacon  declares  that  he  finds  the  road 
to  knowledge  abandoned  and  stopped  up,  and,  setting  himself 
to  the  task  of  clearing  the  way,  he  quotes  Solomon  as  to  the  use 
of  eloquence,  and  again  enforces  the  necessity  of  making  collec- 
tions. This  time  they  are  to  be  collections  of  "  illustrations  " 
which  shall  consider  the  opposite  sides  of  every  question,  and 
show  that  there  is  a  good  as  well  as  a  bad  side  to  every  proposi- 
tion. "  It  is  the  business  of  rhetoric  to  make  pictures  of  virtue 
and  goodness  that  they  may  be  seen.  And  a  store  of  sophisms, 
or  the  colours  of  good  and  evil,  should  be  made,  so  that  when 
men's  natural  inclinations  mutiny,  reason  may,  upon  such  a 
revolt  of  imagination,  hold  her  own,  and  in  the  end  prevail." 
These  "  points  and  stings  of  things  "  are  by  no  means  to  be 
neglected ;  yet  they,  like  the  rest,  are  deficient. 

Bacon  wishes  it  to  be  plainly  understood  that  the  object  of  all 
this  "  provision  of  discourse"  is  to  enable  men  readily  to  make 
use  of  their  acquired  knowledge.  The  system  of  noting,  tabu- 
lation, and  indexing  which  he  enjoined,  practised,  and  developed 
into  a  perfect  system  in  his  secret  society  is,  he  says,  rather  an 
exercise  of  patience,  a  matter  of  diligence,  than  of  erudition. 
"  Aristotle  derided  the  sophists  who  practised  it,  saying  that 
they  did  as  if  a  shoemaker  should  not  teach  how  to  make 
a  shoe,  but  should  only  exhibit  a  number  of  shoes  of  all  fashions 

1  "An  honest  method,  as  wholesome  as  sweet."  {Sam.  ii.  2.) 


184  FEANCIS  BACON 

and  sizes.  Far  otherwise  said  our  Saviour,  speaking  of  divine 
knowledge :  Every  scribe  that  is  instructed  in  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  is  like  a  householder  that  bringeth  forth  old  and  new 
store. "  His  own  notes  were  to  him  the  store  or  Promus  from 
which  he  drew.  They  correspond  to  the  last  collection,  which 
he  specially  recommends,  namely,  "  a  store  of  commonplaces,  in 
which  all  kinds  of  questions  and  studies,  prepared  beforehand, 
are  argued  on  either  side,  and  not  only  so,  but  the  case  exag- 
gerated both  ways  with  the  utmost  force  of  wit,  and  urged 
unfairly,  and,  as  it  were,  beyond  the  trutfi. "  For  the  sake  of 
brevity  and  convenience,  these  commonplaces  should  be  con- 
tracted into  concise  sentences,  "  to  be  like  reels  of  thread,  easily 
unwound  when  they  are  wanted."  These  he  calls  the  "an- 
titheses of  things,"  and,  having  a  great  many  by  him,  ho  gives, 
H  by  way  of  example,  "forty-seven  antitheta,  which,  "  although 
perhaps  of  no  great  value,  yet  as  I  long  ago  prepared  them,  I 
was  loth  to  let  the  fruit  of  my  youthful  industry  perish  —  the 
rather  (if  they  be  carefully  examined)  they  are  seeds  only,  and 
not  flowers." 

These  antitheta,  which  pervade  the  whole  of  Bacon's  works, 
and  which  indeed  tend  to  the  formation  of  the  most  remarkable 
points  in  his  style,  may  equally  well  be  seen  in  the  Shakespeare 
plays  and  poetry,  whose  "  highly  antithetical  style"  is  the  sub- 
ject of  comment  by  nearly  every  critic  of  the  varied  resources 
of  his  expressive  diction. 

From  the  discussion  of  words,  phrases,  life,  and  rhetoric  (all 
of  which  he  finds  to  be  fundamentally  defective),  Bacon  passes 
on  to  sound,  measure,  and  accent;  explaining,  as  to  novices  in 
the  art,  the  most  elementary  principles  of  elocution,  rhythm, 
and  prosody.  "  The  sound  belonging  to  sweetnesses  and  harsh- 
nesses, the  hiatus  caused  by  vowels  coming  together,"  the  dif- 
ference in  the  use  of  diphthongs  in  Greek  and  Latin,  and  some 
peculiarities  in  various  languages  —  of  these  things  he  has  soon 
"  had  more  than  enough,"  and  he  gladly  turns  to  his  congenial 
subject,  poesy. 

Now  on  this  score,  at  least,  one  might  expect  that  he  could 
congratulate  his  countrymen.    But  all  that  he  is  able  to  say  is 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  185 

that  "  Poesy  has  produced  a  vast  body  of  art,  considered,  not  to 
the  matter  of  it,  but  to  the  form  of  words. "  All  words,  no  matter, 
nothing  from  the  heart !  i  Is  this  all  that  can  be  said  for  the 
poetry  of  an  age  which  produced  the  Faerie  Queene,  The  Shep- 
herd's Calendar,  the  Shakespeare  plays,  poems  and  sonnets,  the 
works  of  Ben  Jonson,  Marlowe,  Middleton,  Chapman,  Webster, 
the  hymns  and  spiritual  songs  of  Herbert,  Quarles,  Withers, 
Cowley,  Crashaw,  and  a  host  of  "  minor  poets  "  ?  Are  we  to 
believe  that  Bacon  included  these  in  his  vast  body  of  art 
considered,  not  in  regard  to  the  matter,  but  to  the  words  of  it? 

Poetry  to  be  lovely  must  have  matter  as  well  as  art.  It  should 
be  the  spontaneous  overflow  of  a  full  mind,  stored  to  the  brim 
with  "  true  history,"  with  a  knowledge  of  nature,  and  especially 
of  human  nature;  for  "  by  Poesy,"  says  Bacon,  "  I  mean  here 
nothing  else  than  feigned  history."*  Shakespeare  formed  the  same 
estimate  of  true  poetry: 

Audrey.    I  do  not  know  what  poetical  is ;  ...  is  it  a  true  thing  ? 

Touchstone.  No,  truly,  for  the  truest  poetry  is  the  most  feigning,  and  what  they 
swear  in  poetry  may  be  said,  as  lovers,  they  do  feign.  ...  If  thou  wert  a  poet, 
I  might  have  some  hope  thou  didst  feign  1 3 

Bacon  reminds  us  more  than  once  of  all  that  poets  feign±  in 
their  histories,  but  he  fails  not  to  show  that  "  all  invention  "  or 
imaginative  power  "  is  but  memory, "  and  that  "  a  man  is  only 
what  he  knows."  In  vain  would  weaker  wits  endeavour  to  per- 
suade us  that  "  reading  and  writing  come  by  nature,"  or  that  a 
man  can  write  well  about  matters  concerning  which  he  can 
never  have  had  the  opportunity  of  duly  informing  himself. 
Poesy,  indeed,  being  "  free  and  licensed,  may  at. pleasure  make 
unlawful  matches  and  divorces  of  things,"  but  the  poet  must  be 
acquainted  with  those  things  before  he  can  either  match  or 
divorce  them. 


"  "Who  will    for  a   tricksy  word  defy  the  matter:''     (Merchant  of 
Venice   iii.  5  )     " More  rich  'in  matter  than  in  words."     {Borneo  and  Juliet,  li.  6.) 


l  Compare : 


Venice,  m.  o)         ju.uiciu.iv   m«   m.u.no»   <,!.,•*».».■.   .~~. —.     ,/,"., ,    ,.        .  ,  ' 

"Words  words,  mere  words,  nothing  from  the  heart.'  (Troilus  and  Lressida, 
v3)  "  More  matter  with  less  art."  (Hamlet,  ii.  2.)  "This  nothing's  more  than 
matter."  (Ibid.  iv.  5.)  "When  priests  are  more  in  words  than  matter. 
(Lear,  iii.  2  and  iv.  6.) 

2J)e  Augmentis.  3  As  Ton  Like  It,  iii.  5. 

4  3  Henry  VI.  i.  2.    Merchant  of  Venice,  v.  1,  etc. 


186  FRANCIS  BACON 

The  first  study  of  the  poet  should  be  history,  "  which  is  prop- 
erly concerned  with  individuals,1  and  whose  impressions  are 
the  first  and  most  ancient  guests  of  the  human  mind,  and  are 
as  the  primary  material  of  knowledge. "  This  is  no  passing 
thought  of  Bacon's,  but  a  firm  conviction,  of  which  he  set  forth 
a  visible  illustration  on  the  title-page  of  the  Advancement  of 
Learning.  Here  we  see  two  pyramids,  that  on  the  right  based 
upon  Divinity,  and  rising  into  the  study  of  human  nature;  that 
on  the  left  based  on  Philosophy,  and  issuing  in  History  and  Poe- 
try.   Bacon  describes  the  process  of  poetic  evolution : 

"  The  images  of  individuals  are  received  into  the  sense,  and 
fixed  in  the  memory.  They  pass  into  the  memory  whole,  just  as 
they  present  themselves.  Then  the  mind  recalls  and  reviews 
them,  and,  which  is  its  proper  office,  compounds  or  divides  the 
parts  of  which  they  consist.  For  individuals  have  something 
in  common  with  each  other,  and  again  something  different,  and 
the  composition  of  one  characteristic  with  another  is  either 
according  to  the  pleasure  of  the  mind  or  according  to  the 
nature  of  things  as  it  exists  in  fact.  If  it  be  according 
to  the  pleasure  of  the  mind  of  the  composer,  and  that  the 
various  characteristics  of  one  person  are  mixed  or  compounded 
with  those  of  another,  then  the  work  is  a  work  of  imagination; 
which,  not  being  bound  by  any  law  or  necessity  of  nature,  may 
join  things  which  are  never  found  together  in  nature,  and  sepa- 
rate things  which  in  nature  are  never  found  apart." 

Now,  truly,  Bacon  realised  the  "  tricks  of  strong  imagination, " 

"  Shaping  fantasies  that  apprehend 
More  than  cool  reason  ever  comprehends," 

■bodying  forth  the  forms  of  things  unknown,  whilst  the  poet's 

pen 

"  Turns  them  to  shapes  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 
A  local  habitation  and  a  name."  2 

The  antithetical  view  of  the  question  is  best  seen  in  Antony 
and  Cleopatra,  where  Cleopatra,  recalling  the  memory  of  Antony, 
"  whole  as  it  presents  itself,"  is  yet  struck  by  the  inadequacy  of 
her  efforts  to  combine  so  many  noble  features  in  one  image: 

1  "  The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man." 

2  See  M.N.  D.  v.  1,  1-28. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  187 

"  Nature  -wants  stuff 
To  vie  strange  forms  with  fancy,  yet  to  imagine 
An  Antony  were  nature's  peace  'gainst  fancy, 
Condemning  shadows  quite.  1 

"  If,  on  the  other  hand,  these  same  parts  or  characteristics  of 
individuals  are  compounded  or  divided,  as  they  really  show  them- 
selves in  nature,  this  is  the  business  and  duty  of  Reason.  From 
these  three  fountains  of  Memory,  Imagination,  and  Reason  flow 
three  emanations  of  History,  Poesy,  and  Philosophy,  and  ttiere 
cannot  be  more  or  other  than  these ;  they  even  include  Theology. 
For  whether  information  enters  or  is  conveyed  into  the  mind  by 
revelation  or  by  sense,  the  human  spirit  is  one  and  the  same,  and 
it  is  but  as  if  different  liquors  were  poured  through  different  fun- 
nels into  one  and  the  same  vessel. " 

He  goes  on  to  show  that  Poesy  is  to  be  taken  in  two  senses,  in 
regard  to  words  or  matter.  "  In  the  first  sense  it  is  but  a  kind  of 
speech,  verse  being  only  a  kind  of  style  and  having  nothing  to  do 
with  the  matter  or  subject;  for  true  history  may  be  written  in 
verse,and  feigned  history  or  fiction  may  be  written  in  prose."2 
Bacon  adds,  in  the  De  Augmentis,  that  in  the  "  style  and  form  of 
words,  that  is  to  say,  metre  and  verse,  the  art  we  have  is  a  very 
small  thing,  though  the  examples  are  large  and  innumerable." 

"  The  art  which  grammarians  call  Prosody  should  not  be  con- 
fined to  teaching  the  kinds  and  measures  of  verse,  but  precepts 
should  be  added  as  to  the  kinds  of  verse  which  best  suit  each 
matter  or  subject."  He  shows  how  the  ancients  used  hexame- 
ters, elegiacs,  iambic  and  lyric  verse,  with  this  view.  Modern 
imitation  fell  short,  because,  with  too  great  zeal  for  antiquity, 
the  writers  tried  to  train  the  modern  languages  into  ancient 
measures,  incompatible  with  the  structure  of  the  languages,  and 
no  less  offensive  to  the  ear.  "  But  for  poesy,  whether  in  stories  or 
metre,  it  is  like  a  luxuriant  plant  that  cometh  of  the  lust  of  the 
earth  and  without  any  formal  seed.  Wherefore  it  spreads  every- 
where, and  is  scattered  far  and  wide,  so  that  it  would  be  vain  to  take 
thought  about  the  defects  of  it. "  Yet  he  levels  a  parting  shaft 
at  these  defects,  observing  that,  although  accents  in  words  have 
been  carefully  attended  to,  the  accentuation  of  sentences  has  not 
been  observed  at  all. 

i  Ant.  and  CL  v.  2.  2  Intellectual  Globe. 


188  FRANCIS  BACON 

Narrative  Poesy  is  a  mere  imitation  of  History,  such  as  might 
pass  for  real,  only  that  it  commonly  exaggerates  things  beyond 
probability. 

Dramatic  Poesy  is  History  made  visible,  for  it  represents 
actions  as  if  they  were  present,  whereas  History  represents  tbem 
as  past. 

Parabolic  Poesy  is  typical  history,  by  which  ideas  that  are  ob- 
jects of  the  intellect  are  represented  in  forms  that  are  objects 
of  the  sense. 

As  for  Narrativeor  Her  oical  Poesy, "  the  foundation  of  it  is  truly 
noble,  and  has  a  special  relation  to  the  dignity  of  human  nature. 
For  as  the  sensible  world  is  inferior  in  dignity  to  the  rational 
soul,  poesy  seems  to  bestow  upon  human  nature  those  things 
which  history  denies  to  it,  and  to  satisfy  the  mind  with  the 
shadows  of  things  ivhen  the  substance  cannot  be  obtained. " 

So,  in  his  Device  of  Philautia,  the  soldier  is  made  to  say :  "  The 
shadoivs  of  games  are  but  counterfeits  and  shadows,  when  in  a 
lively  tragedy  a  man's  enemies  are  sacrificed  before  his  eyes,  "etc. 

Theseus  has  the  same  thought  that  poetry  is  the  shadow  of 
things.  He  does  not  despise  the  shadow  when  the  substance 
cannot  be  obtained,  although  Hippolyta  pronounces  the  rural 
play  to  be  the  silliest  stuff  that  e'er  she  heard.  He  replies: 
"  The  best  in  this  kind  are  but  shadows,  and  the  worst  are  no 
worse,  if  imagination  mend  them. "  l 

Puck,  too,  in  his  apology  for  himself  and  his  fellow- players, 
calls  them  shadows. 

"  And  the  reason  why  poesy  is  so  agreeable  to  the  spirit  of  man 
is  that  he  has  a  craving  for  a  more  perfect  order  and  more 
beautiful  variety  thau  can  be  found  in  nature  since  the  fall. 
Therefore,  since  the  acts  and  events  of  real  history  are  not  grand 
enough  to  satisfy  the  human  mind,  poesy  is  at  hand  to  feign 
acts  more  heroical ;  since  the  issues  of  actions  in  real  life  are 
far  from  agreeing  with  the  merits  of  virtue  and  vice,  poesy  cor- 
rects history,  exhibiting  events  and  fortunes  as  according  to  merit 
and  the  law  of  Providence.  Since  true  history  wearies  the  mind 
with  common  events,  poetry  refreshes  it  by  reciting  things  un- 
expected and  various.    So  that  this  poesy  conduces  not  only  to 

i  M.  N.  D.  v.  2. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  189 

delight,  but  to  magnanimity  and  morality.  Whence  it  may 
fairly  be  thought  to  partake  somewhat  of  a  divine  nature,  be- 
cause it  raises  the  mind  aloft,  accommodating  the  shows  of 
things  to  the  desires  of  the  mind,  not  (like  reason  and  history) 
buckling  and  bowing  down  the  mind  to  the  nature  of  things." l 

"  By  these  charms  and  that  agreeable  congruity  which  it  has 
with  mau's  nature,  accompanied  also  with  music,  to  gain  more 
sweet  access,  poesy  has  so  won  its  way  as  to  have  been  held  in 
honour  even  iu  the  rudest  ages  and  among  barbarous  people, 
when  other  kinds  of  learning  were  utterly  excluded."2 

Can  it  be  doubted  that  he  intended  so  to  use  it  in  his  own  age, 
still  so  rude,  though  so  self-satisfied?  In  a  previous  chapter 
he  has  described  Minerva  as  "  forsaken,"  and  he  proposes  "  to 
make  a  hymn  to  the  muses,  because  it  is  long  since  their  rites 
were  duly  celebrated. " 3  Years  before  this  he  said  the  same  in 
the  Device  of  Philautia,  which  was  performed  before  the  Queen 
A  hermit  is  introduced,  who,  in  his  speech,  exhorts  the  squire 
to  persuade  his  master  to  offer  his  services  to  the  muses.  "  It  is 
long  since  they  received  any  into  their  court.  They  give  alms 
continually  at  their  gate,  that  many  come  to  live  upon,  but  few 
have  they  ever  admitted  into  their  palace."  Elsewhere  he 
speaks  of  "  the  poverty  of  experiences  and  knowledge,"  4  "  the 
poverty  and  scantiness11  of  the  subjects  which  till  now  have 
occupied  the  minds  of  men."  5 

And  so  in  the  Midsummer  Night1  s  Dream  (v.  1)  we  find : 
"  The  thrice-three  muses  mourning  for  the  death 
Of  Learning,  late  deceas'd  in  beggary." 

And  the  Princess  in  Love's  Labours  Lost  (v.  2),  exclaims, 
when  the  King  and  his  masque  and  musicians  depart: 

"  Are  these  the  breed  of  wits  so  wondered  at  ? 
Well-liking  wits  they  have ;  gross,  gross ;  fat  fat. 
O  poverty  in  wit,  kingly-poor  flout ! " 

And  Biron  says  the  study  of 

"  Slow  arts  entirely  keep  the  brain*, 
And,  therefore,  finding  barren  practisers, 
Scarce  show  a  harvest  of  their  heavy  toil." 

1  De  Aug.  ii.  13. 

2  De  Aug.  ii.  13.  "Aye,  much  is  the  force  of  heaven-bred  poesy." — Tw  G 
Ver.  hi.  2.    3  Advt.  L.  i.    *  Int.  Nat.  10.    5  Nov.  Org.  i.  85. 


190  FRANCIS  BACON 

In  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  the  author  (Bacon,  as  we 
believe)  says  that  "poetry  and  beggary  are  Gemini,  twin- born 
brats,  inseparable  companions. 

"And  to  this  day  is  every  scholar  poor: 
Gross  gold  from  thein  runs  headlong  to  the  boor." 

And  now  we  come  to  dramatic  poesy,  a  section  which  Bacon 
seems  carefully  to  have  omitted  in  the  English  edition  of  the 
Advancement  of  Learning.  That  edition  would,  during  bis  own 
lifetime,  be  chiefly  read  by  his  own*  countrymen,  and  might 
draw  attention  to  his  connection  with  the  dran\a  and  stage 
plays,  arts  which,  as  we  have  seen,  he  held  to  be  of  the  highest 
value  and  importance,  although  in  his  time  corrupt,  degraded, 
plainly  neglected,  and  esteemed  but  as  toys. 

"  Dramatic  poesy,  which  has  the  theatre  for  its  world,  would 
be  of  excellent  use  ificell  directed.  For  the  stage  is  capable  of 
no  small  influence,  both  of  discipline  and  of  corruption.  Now. 
of  corruptions  in  this  kind  we  have  had  enough;  but  the  disci- 
pline has,  in  our  times,  been  plainly  neglected.  And  though 
in  modern  states  play-acting  is  esteemed  but  as  a  toy,  exec] it 
when  it'is  too  satirical  and  biting,  yet  among  the  ancients  it  was 
used  as  a  means  of  educating  men's  minds  to  virtue.  Nay,  it 
has  been  regarded  by  learned  men  and  great  philosophers  as  a 
kind  of  musician's  bow,  by  which  men's  minds  may  be  pla\  ed. 
upon.  And  certainly  it  is  most  true,  and  one  of  the  great 
secrets  of  nature,  that  the  minds  of  men  are  more  open  to 
impressions  and  affections  when  many  are  gathered  together, 
than  when  they  are  alone."  1 

He  returns  to  the  subject  later  on,  in  connection  with  rhetoric 
and  other  arts  of  transmitting  knowledge: 

"  It  will  not  be  amiss,"  he  says,  "  to  observe  that  even  mean 
faculties,  when  they  fall  into  great  men  or  great  matters,  work 
great  and  important  effects.  Of  this  I  will  bring  forward  an 
example  worthy  to  be  remembered,  the  more  so  because  the 
Jesuits  appear  not  to  despise  this  kind  of  discipline,  therein 
judging,  as  I  think,  well.  It  is  a  thing  indeed,  if  practised  pro- 
fessionally, of  low  repute;  but  if  it  be  made  a  part  of  discipline 
it  is  of  excellent  use.  I  mean  stage  playing  —  an  art  which 
,f  1 1\  r.gthens  the  memory,  regulates  the  tone  and  effect  of  the 

IDeAug.  ii.  13. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  191 

voice  and  pronunciation,  teaches  a  decent  carriage  of  the  coun- 
tenance and  gesture,  gives  not  a  little  assurance,  and  accustoms 
young  men  to  bear  being  looked  at." 

He  then  gives  an  example  from  Tacitus  (not  from  Hamlet)  of 
a  player  who 

"  in  a  fiction,  in  a  dream  of  passion, 
Could  force  his  soul  so  to  his  whole  conceit 
That,  from  her  working;,  all  his  visage  wann'd . 
Tears  in  his  eyes,  distraction  in 's  aspect, 
A  broken  voice,  and  his  whole  function  suiting 
To  his  conceit, 

and  who  so  moved  and  excited  his  fellow-soldier3  with  a  fictitious 
account  of  the  murder  of  his  brother  that,  had  it  not  shortly 
afterward  appeared  that  nothing  of  the  sort  had  happened,  or, 
as  Hamlet  says,  that  it  was  "  all  for  nothing  "  —  "■  nay,  that  he 
never  had  a  brother,  would  hardly  have  kept  their  hands  off  the 
prefect;  but  the  fact  was,  that  he  played  the  whole  thing  as  if  it 
had  been  a  piece  on  the  stage."  l 

Highly  as  Bacon  extols  Poetry  in  all  its  branches,  but  especially 
in  the  narrative  and  dramatic  forms,  he  yet  gives  to  Parabolic 
Poetry  a  still  more  distinguished  place,  and  this  would  certainly 
strike  us  as  strange  if  it  were  not  that  this  parabolic  method  is 
found  to  be  so  intimately  connected  with  the  whole  question 
of  secret  societies,  their  symbols,  ciphers,  and  hieroglyphics. 

In  the  De  Augmentis  we  cannot  fail  to  see  that  he  is  every- 
where leading  up  to  a  secret  description  of  his  own  system  of 
conveying  covert  or  hidden  information  and  of  moralising  two 
meanings  in  one  word. 

"  Parabolic  Poesy  is  of  a  higher  character  than  the  others, 
and  appears  to  be  something  sacred  and  venerable,  especially 
as  religion  itself  commonly  uses  its  aid  as  a  means  of  communi- 
cation between  divinity  and  humanity.  But  this,  too,  is  corrupted 
by  the  levity  and  idleness  of  wits  in  dealing  with  allegory.  It 
is  of  double  use,  and  serves  for  contrary  purposes,  for  it  serves 
for  an  infoldment,  and  it  likewise  serves  for  illustration.  In  the 
latter  case  the  object  is  a  method  of  teaching,  in  the  former  an 

1  De  Aug.  vi.  9. 


192  FRANCIS  BACON 

artifice  for  concealment. "  He  goes  on  to  show  how,  in  days 
when  men's  minds  were  not  prepared  for  the  reception  of  new 
ideas,  they  were  made  more  capable  of  receiving  them  by  means 
of  examples;  and  hence  the  ancient  times  are  full  of  parables, 
riddles,  and  similitudes. 

That  this  was  Bacon's  strong  and  well  considered  opinion 
appears  from  its  frequent  repetition  in  his  works.  The  admirable 
preface  to  The  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients  enters  into  this  subject 
with  considerable  detail,  and  is  peculiarly  interesting  on  account 
of  the  indisputable  evidence  which  it  affords  that  these  things 
were  new  in  Bacon's  day;  that  it  was  he  who  revived  the  use  of 
trope  and  metaphor;  who  taught  men,  in  days  when  this 
knowledge  of  the  ancients  had  been  all  but  extinguished,  to 
light  up  or  illustrate,  "  not  only  antiquity,  but  the  things 
themselves. " 

Again,  repeating  that  there  are  two  contrary  ends  to  be 
answered  by  the  use  of  parable,  which  may  serve  as  well  to 
wrap  up  and  envelop  secret  teaching,  as  openly  to  instruct,  he 
points  out  that,  even  if  we  drop  the  concealed  use,  and  consider 
the  ancient  fables  only  as  stories  intended  for  amusement. 

"  Still  the  other  use  must  remain,  and  can  never  be  given  up. 
And  every  man  of  any  learning  must  allow  that  this  method  of 
instructing  is  grave,  sober,  or  exceedingly  useful,  and  sometimes 
necessary  "in  the  sciences,  as  it  opens  an  easy  and  familiar  pass- 
age to  the  human  understanding  in  all  new  discoveries  that  are 
abstruse  and  out  of  the  road  of  vulgar  opinions.  Hence,  in  the 
first  ages,  when  such  inventions  and  conclusions  of  the  human 
reason  as  are  now  trite  and  common  were  new  and  little  known, 
all  things l  abounded  ivith  fables,  parables,  similes,  comparisons, 
and  allusions,  which  were  not  intended  to  conceal,  but  to  inform 
and  teach,  whilst  the  minds  of  men  continued  rude  and  unprac- 
tised in  matters  of  subtlety  and  speculation,  or  even  impatient, 
and  in  a  manner  uncapable  of  receiving  such  things  as  did  not 
directly  fall  under  and  strike  the  senses.  For,  as  hieroglyphics 
were  in  use  before  writing,  so  were  parables  in  use  before 
arguments.     And  even  to  this  day,  if  any  man  would  let  new 

1  "If  you  look  in  the  maps  of  the  'orld,  you  shall  find  in  the  comparisons 
between  Macedon  and  Monmouth,  that  the  situations,  look  you,  is  both  alike.  .  .  . 
For  there's  figures  in  all  things.  ...  I  speak  but  in  the  figures  and  comparisons 
of  it."  —  Eenry  V.  iv.  8. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  193 

lirfht  in  upon  the  human  understanding,  and  conquer  prejudice, 
without  raising  contests,  animosities,  opposition,  or  disturbance, 
he  must  still  go  on  in  the  same  path,  and  have  recourse  to  the 
like  method  of  allegory,  metaphor,  and  allusion. 

"  Now,  whether  any  mystic  meaning  be  concealed  beneath  the 
fables  of  the  ancient  poets  is  a  matter  of  some  doubt.  For  my 
own  part  I  must  confess  that  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  a 
mystery  is  involved  in  no  small  number  of  them.  ...  I  take 
them  to  be  a  kind  of  breath  from  the  traditions  of  more  ancient 
nations,  which  fell  into  the  pipes  of  the  Greeks.  But  since  that 
which  has  hitherto  been  done  in  the  interpretation  of  these 
parables,  being  the  work  of  skilful  men,  not  learned  beyond 
commonplaces,  does  not  by  any  means  satisfy  me,  I  think  ht 
to  set  down  philosophy  according  to  the  ancient  parables  among 
the  desiderata." 

He  then  selects,  as  examples  of  his  own  interpretation  of  the 
ancient  myths,  Pan  interpreted  of  the  Universe  and  Natural 
Philosophy ;  Perseus,  of  War  and  Political  Philosophy;  Dionysus, 
of  Desire  and  Moral  Philosophy. 

Who  can  read  the  scientific  works  of  Bacon,  or  try  really  to 
understand  his  philosophy,  without  perceiving  that,  whatever  he 
may  have  discovered,  revived,  instilled,  or  openly  taught,  his 
main  object  was  to  teach  men  to  teach  themselves?  His"  method" 
everywhere  tends  to  this  point.    To  get  at  general  principles,  to 
find  out  first  causes,  and  to  inveut  the  art  of  inventing  arts, 
and  of  handing  down  as  well  as  of  advancing  the  knowledge 
acquired  —these  were  his  aims.     He  is  fully  conscious  that  life  is 
short  and  art  is  long,  and  therefore  does  not  attempt  to  perfect 
any  one  department  of  science.    He  gives  the  keys  and  expects 
others  to  decipher  the  problems  by  meaus  of  those  keys.     He 
had  very  small  respect  for  mere  accumulations  of  detached  facts, 
but  he  knew  that  generalisations  could  only  be  properly  based 
upon  such  accumulations,  classified  and  reduced  to  order,  and 
that  axioms  to  be  true  must  be  "  drawn  from  the  very  centre  of 
the  sciences. "    That  he  organised  and  supervised  the  making  of 
such  stores  of  facts  and  scraps  of  knowledge  as  fill  the  ponder- 
ous volumes  of  the  encyclopedists  of  the  sixteenth  century,  we 
do  not  for  an  instant  doubt.     Modern  science,  in  its  pride  or 
conceit,  has  too  often  been  inclined  to  disown  its  vast  debts  to 


194  FRANCIS  BACON 

Bacon,  because,  forsooth,  having  worked  with  the  whole  mass 
of  his  accumulated  knowledge  to  begin  upon,  whereas  he  began 
upon  nothing,  they  now  find  short  cuts  to  the  invention  of  sciences 
for  which  he  laboured  when  science  was  an  empty  name,  and 
the  art  of  invention  unknown  excepting  by  Bacon  himself.  That 
his  works  are  ostensibly  and  intentionally  left  unfinished,  and 
that  the  book-lore  of  his  time  was  to  his  mind  thoroughly  unsat- 
isfactory, and  the  store  of  knowledge  acquired  inadequate  for 
the  invention  and  advancement  of  arts  and  sciences,  is  made 
very  plain  in  the  "  Filum  Labyrinth  i  sive  Formula  Inquisitionis, " 
in  which  he  relates  to  his  sons1  (the  Rosicrucian  Fraternity,  of 
which  he  was  the  father)  the  thoughts  which  passed  through 
his  mind  on  this  subject: 

"  Francis  Bacon  thought  in  this  manner.  The  knowledge 
whereof  the  world  is  now  possessed,  especially  that  of  nature, 
extendeth  not  to  magnitude  and  certainty  of  works.  .  .  .  When 
men  did  set  before  themselves  the  variety  and  perfection  of  works 
produced  by  mechanical  arts,  they  are  apt  rather  to  admire 
the  provisions  of  man  than  to  apprehend  his  wants,  not  consid- 
ering that  the  original  intentions  and  conclusions  of  nature, 
which  are  the  life  of  all  that  variety,  are  not  many  nor  deeply 
fetched,  and  that  the  rest  is  but  the  subtle  and  ruled  motion 
of  the  instrument  and  hand,  and  that  the  shop  therein  is  not 
unlike  the  library,  which  in  such  number  of  books  containeth, 
for  the  far  greater  part,  nothing  but  iterations,  varied  some- 
times in  form,  but  not  new  in  substance.  So  he  saw  plainly  that 
opinion  of  store  was  a  cause  of  want,  and  that  both  books  and 
doctrines  appear  many  and  are  few.  He  thought,  also,  that 
knowledge  is  uttered  to  men  in  a  form  as  if  everything  were  fin- 
ished, for  it  is  reduced  into  arts  and  methods,  which  in  their 
divisions  do  seem  to  include  all  that  may  be.  And  how  weakly 
soever  the  parts  are  filled,  yet  they  carry  the  shew  and  reason 
total,  and  thereby  the  writings  of  some  received  authors  go 
for  the  very  art;  whereas  antiquity  used  to  deliver  the  knowl- 
edge which  the  mind  of  man  had  gathered  in  observations, 
aphorisms,  or  short  and  dispersed  sentences,  or  small  tractates 
of  some  parts  that  they  had  diligently  meditated  and  laboured, 
which  did  invite  men  to  ponder  that  which  was  invented,  and  to 
add  and  supply  further. " 


l  In  the  left-hand  corner  of  the  MS.,  in  the  British  Museum  (Harl.  MSS.  6797, 
fo.  139),  there  is  written  in  Bacon's  hand-  Ad  Filios. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  195 

A  vast  number  of  such  "  small  tractates  "  as  Bacon  here  men- 
tions will  be  found  amongst  the  works  which  sprang  up  in  his 
time  and  immediately  after  his  death.  They  seem  to  be  the 
result,  for  the  most  part,  of  diligent  pondering  upon  the  works 
which  Bacon  himself  had  "  invented;"  they  reproduce  his  say- 
ings, paraphrasing,  diluting,  abridging,  or  delivering  them  in 
short  and  dispersed  aphorisms,  according  to  the  method  which 
he  advocates  as  one  means  for  the  advancement  of  learning. 
The  method  is  still  extant,  and  Bacon  continues,  like  evergreen 
history,  to  repeat  himself.  Often  when  unexpectedly  we  come 
upon  his  own  words  and  apparently  original  thoughts,  familiarly 
used  as  household  words,  or  calmly  appropriated  by  subsequent 
writers,  we  think  how  true  it  is  that  one  man  labours  and  others 
enter  into  his  labours. 

Once  more,  a  brief  summary  of  the  deficiencies  which  Bacon 
found  in  the  literature  and  arts  of  discourse  of  his  own  times : 

1.  A  history  of  learning  (anything  in  fact  corresponding  to 
Prof.  H.  Morley's  Tables  of  English  Literature). 

2.  Civil    history,    biographies,    commentaries,    antiquities, 
chronicles,  perfect  histories. 

3.  Appendices  to  history,  orations,  letters,  apophthegms  or 
brief  sayings,  etc. 

4.  Registers,  journals,  memorials,  etc. 

5.  Helps  to  the  art  of  memory. 

G.  Philosophic    grammar  —  (a.)  Words    new-coined,     (b.) 
Words  from  foreign  sources,     (c.)  A  true  grammar  of  language. 

7.  A  store  or  provision  for  discourse,  forms  of  speech,  elegan- 
cies, prefaces,  conclusions,  digressions,  etc. 

8.  A    method    of   discourse    and    for    the  transmission  of 
knowledge. 

9.  "  Collections,"  dictionaries,  encyclopedias,  books  of  refer- 
ence. 

10.  Store  of  sophisms. 

11.  Store  of  antitheta,  or  arguments  on  all  sides;  common- 
places. 

12.  Treatises  on  elocution  and  prosody,  on  sound,  measure, 
and  accent  in  poetry. 


196  FRANCIS  BACON 

13.  Dramatic  poesy  and  the  art  of  stage-playiug. 

14.  Parabolic  poetry;  the  use  of  symbols,  emblems,  hiero- 
glyphics, metaphors;  the  power  of  using  analogies,  etc.;  fables, 
parables,  allegories. 

Not  one  word  does  Bacon  say  about  the  prodigious  increase  in 
the  richness  of  language  which  had  taken  place  during  his  own 
life.  As  he  wrote  in  the  prime  of  his  manhood,  so  he  writes  in 
the  complete  edition  of  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  published 
simultaneously  with  the  Shakespeare  plays  in  1623.  Ending 
where  he  began,  and  disregarding  the  mass  of  splendid  literature 
which  filled  up  all  numbers  and  surpassed  the  finest  efforts  of 
Greece  and  Rome,  he  calmly  sets  down  philosophic  grammar 
and  the  art  of  using  beautiful  language  as  "  wanting." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   ROSICRUCTANS  :    THEIR    RULES,    AIMS,    AND    METHOD     OF 
WORKING. 

"  Woorko  when  God  woorkes."  —  Promiis. 

"  To  see  how  God  in  all  His  creatures  works  !  " — 2d  Henry  VI. 

"  Ripening  would  seem  to  be  the  proper  work  of  the  sun,  .  .  .  which  operates 
by  gentle  action  through  long  spaces  of  time,  whereas  the  operations  of  Are, 
urged  on  by  the  impatience  of  man,  are  made  to  hasten  their  work." —  Novum 

On/an  um. 

BRIEF  and  incomplete  as  are  the  previous  chapters,  it  is  hoped 
that  they  may  serve  their  purpose  of  unsettling  the  minds 
of  those  who  suppose  that  the  history,  character,  aims,  and  work 
of  Bacon  are  thoroughly  understood,  and  that  all  is  known  that 
is  ever  likely  to  he  known  concerning  him. 

The  discrepancies  of  opinion,  the  tremendous  gaps  in  parts  of 
the  story,  the  unexpected  facts  which  persistent  research  and 
collation  of  passages  have  continued  to  unearth,  the  vast 
amount  of  matter  of  every  description  which  (unless  philology 
be  an  empty  word  and  the  study  of  it  froth  and  vanity) 
must,  in  future  years,  be  ascribed  to  Bacon,  are  such  as  to  force 
the  explorer  to  pause,  and  seriously  to  ask  himself,  Are  these 
things  possible?  Could  any  one  man,  however  gigantic  his 
powers,  however  long  his  literary  life,  have  produced  all  the  works 
which  we  are  forced  by  evidence,  internal  and,  sometimes,  also, 
external,  to  believe  Bacon's  —  his  in  conception,  in  substance,  in 
diction,  even  though  often  apparently  paraphrased,  interpolated, 
or  altered  by  other  hands? 

The  mind  of  the  inquirer  turns  readily  toward  the  history  of 
the  great  secret  societies  which  were  formed  during  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  which  became,  in  troublous  times  of  church  or  state, 

(197) 


198  FRANCIS  BACON 

such  tremendous  engines  for  good  and  evil.  A  consequent  study 
of  these  secret  societies,  their  true  origin,  their  aims,  and,  so  far 
as  they  can  be  traced,  their  leaders,  agents,  and  organs,  renders 
it  evident  that,  although,  single-handed,  such  self-imposed 
labours  as  Bacon  proposed  and  undertook  would  be  manifestly 
impracticable,  yet,  with  the  aid  of  such  an  organisation  as  that 
of  tbe  Rosicrucian  Fraternity,  the  thing  could  be  done,  for  this 
society,  whether  in  its  principles,  its  objects,  its  proceedings,  or 
in  the  very  obscurity  and  mystery  which  surrounds  it,  is,  of  all 
others,  the  one  best  calculated  to  promote  Bacon's  aims,  its  very 
constitution  seeming  to  be  the  result  of  bis  own  scheme  and 
method. 

So  much  interest  has  lately  been  roused  on  the  subject  of  the 
Rosicrucians,  that  we  shall  curtail  our  own  observations  as  much 
as  possible,  trusting  that  readers  will  procure  the  books  which, 
in  these  later  days,  have  made  the  study  of  this  formerly 
obscure  and  difficult  subject  so  pleasant  and  easy. 1 

Is  it  still  needful  to  say  that  the  Rosicrucians  were  certainly 
not,  as  has  been  thought,  atheists  or  infidels,  alchemists,  or 
sorcerers?  So  far  as  we  could  find,  when  investigating  this  sub- 
ject some  years  ago  (aud  as  seems  to  be  fully  confirmed  by  the 
recent  researches  of  others),  there  is  no  real  ground  for  believ- 
ing that  the  society  was  an  ancient  one,  or  that  it  existed  before 
1575,  or  that  it  issued  any  publication  in  its  own  name  before 
1580.  All  the  legends  concerning  the  supposititious  monk 
Christian  Rosenkreuz,  and  the  still  more  shadowy  stories  which 
pretend  that  the  Rosy  Cross  Brethren  traced  their  origin  to 
remote  antiquity,  and  to  the  Indians  or  Egyptians,  melt  into  thin 
air,  and,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision,  dissolve  away,  when 
we  approach  them  with  spectacles  on  nose  and  pen  in  hand. 

"  A  halo  of  poetic  splendour  surrounds  the  order  of  the  Rosi- 
crucians; the  magic  lights  of  fancy  play  round  their  graceful 
day-dreams,  while  the  mystery  in  which  they  shrouded  them- 
selves lends  additional  attraction  to  their  history.  But  their 
brilliancy  was  that  of  a  meteor.    It  just  flashed  across  the 

l  See  especially  The  Real  History  of  the  Rosicrucians,  A.  E.  Waite,  1887. 
Redway  (Kegan,  Paul  &  Co.).  Bacon  and  the  Rosicrucians,  1889,  and  Francis 
Bacon,  etc.,  1890;  both  by  W.  F.  C.  Wigstou  (Kegan,  Paid,  Trubner  <k  Co.). 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  199 

realms  of  imagination  and  intellect,  and  vanished  forever ;  not, 
however,  without  leaving  behind  some  permanent  and  lovely 
traces  of  its  hasty  passage.  .  .  .  Poetry  and  romance  are  deeply 
indebted  to  the  Rosicrucians  for  many  a  fascinating  creation. 
The  literature  of  every  European  country  contains  hundreds  of 
pleasing  fictions  whose  machinery  has  been  borrowed  from  their 
system  of  philosophy,  though  thai  itself  has  passed  aivay."1 

As  will  be  seen,  there  is  strongreason  to  doubt  whetherthe  words 
which  we  have  rendered  in  italics  are  correct.  The  philosophy, 
the  work  of  the  Rosy  Cross  Brethren,  has  never  passed  away;  it 
is,  we  feel  sure,  still  green  and  growing,  and  possessing  all  the 

earth. 

It  is  only  just  to  readers  to  whom  this  subject  is  new,  to  say 
that  there  is  still  a  wide  divergence  of  opinion  concerning  the 
origin  and  true  aims  of  the  secret  society  of  the  Rosicrucians. 
Bailey  gives  the  following  account: 

"  Their  chief  was  a  German  gentleman,  educated  in  a  mon- 
astery, where,  having  learned  the  languages,  he  travelled  to  the 
Holy  Land,  anno  1378;  and,  being  at  Damascus,  and  falling  sick, 
he  had  heard  the  conversation  of  some  Arabs  and  other  Oriental 
philosophers,  by  whom  he  is  supposed  to  have  been  initiated 
into  this  mysterious  art.  At  his  return  into  Germany  he  formed 
a  society,  and  communicated  to  them  the  secrets  he  had  brought 
with  him  out  of  the  East,  and  died  in  1484. 

"  They  were  a  sect  or  cabal  of  hermetical  philosophers,  who 
bound  themselves  by  a  solemn  secret,  which  they  swore  inviola- 
bly to  observe,  and  obliged  themselves,  at  their  admission  into 
the  order,  to  a  strict  observance  of  certain  established  rules. 

"  They  pretended  to  know  all  sciences,  and  especially  medi- 
cine, of 'which  they  published  themselves  the  restorers;  they 
also  pretended  to  be  masters  of  abundance  of  important  secrets, 
and,  among  others,  that  of  the  philosopher's  stone ;  all  which, 
they  affirmed,  they  had  received  by  tradition  from  the  ancient 
^Egyptians,  Chaldeans,  the  Magi,  and  Gymnosophists. 

"  They  pretended  to  protract  the  period  of  human  life  by 
means  of  certain  nostrums,  and  even  to  restore  youth.  They 
pretended  to  know  all  things.  They  are  also  called  the  Invisi- 
ble Brothers,  because  they  have  made  no  appearance,  but  have 
kept  themselves  incog,  for  several  years." 

As  will  be  seen,  we  cannot  agree  with  the  opinions  of  Bailey  and 

X  Heekethorn,  Secret  Societies  of  all  Ages  and  Countries, 


200  FRANCIS  BACON 

others,  who  have  claimed  for  the  society  a  very  great  antiquity, 
finding  no  evidence  whatever  that  the  hermetical  philosophers 
last  described,  the  supposed  alchemists  and  sorcerers,  were  ever 
heard  of  until  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century.  That  a  secret 
religious  society  did  exist  for  mutual  protection  amongst  the 
Christians  of  the  early  church  and  all  through  the  darkest  ages 
until  the  stormy  times  of  persecution  at  the  Reformation  and 
Counter-reformation,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  Probably  the  rude 
and  imperfect  organisation  of  the  early  religious  society  was 
taken  as  a  basis  on  which  to  rear  the  complete  and  highly  finished 
edifice  as  we  find  it  in  the  time  of  James  I.  But,  in  honest 
truth,  all  statements  regarding  Rosicrucians  as  a  society  of  men 
of  letters  existing  before  the  year  1575  must  be  regarded  as 
highly  doubtful,  and  the  stories  of  the  Rosicrucians  themselves, 
as  fictions,  or  parabolical  "  feigned  histories,"  devised  in  order 
to  puzzle  and  astonish  the  uninitiated  hearer. 

In  the  Royal  Masonic  Cyclopedia  there  is  an  article  on  the 
Rosicrucians  which  seems  in  no  way  to  run  counter  to  these 
opinions.  The  article  begins  with  the  statement  that  in  times 
long  ago  there  existed  men  of  various  races,  religions,  and  climes, 
who  bound  themselves  by  solemn  obligations  of  mutual  succor, 
of  impenetrable  secresy,  and  of  humility,  to  labour  for  the  pres- 
ervation of  human  life  by  the  exercise  of  the  healing  art.  But 
no  date  is  assigned  for  the  first  appearance  of  this  society  in  any 
form,  or  under  any  name.  And  the  title  Rosicrucian  was,  we 
know,  never  given  or  adopted  until  after  the  publication  of  the 
Chymical  Marriage  of  Christian  Rosencreutz,  in  1G16.  The 
writer  in  the  cyclopaedia  seems  to  acknowledge  that  the  truth 
about  the  origin  of  the  Rosicrucian  Fraternity  is  known,  though 
known  only  to  a  few,  and  we  have  strong  reasons  for  believing 
that,  in  Germany  at  least,  a  certain  select  number  of  the  learned 
members  of  the  "Catholic"  (not  the  Papal)  Church  are  fully 
aware  of  how,  when,  and  where  this  society  was  formed,  which, 
after  awhile,  assumed  the  name  of  Rosicrucian,  but  which  the 
initiates  in  Germany  call  by  its  true  name — "  Baconian."  It  is 
very  difficult,  in  all  Masonic  writings,  for  the  uninitiated  to  sift 

1  Bailey's  Dictionary — Rosicrucians. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  201 

the  true  from  the  false;  or,  rather,  fact  from  disguised  history, 
prosaic  statements  from  figurative  language,  geuuiue  informa- 
tion from  garbled  statements  framed  expressly  to  mislead.  Yet, 
in  spite  of  these  things,  which  must  never  be  lost  sight  of,  the 
article  in  question  gives  such  a  good  summary  of  some  of  the 
chief  facts  and  theories  about  the  Rosy  Cross  brethren,  that,  for 
the  benefit  of  those  who  cannot  easily  procure  the  cyclopaedia, 
we  transcribe  some  portions: 

"  Men  of  the  most  opposite  worldly  creeds,  of  diverse  habits, 
and  even  of  apparently  remote  ideas,  have  ever  joined  together, 
consciously  or  unconsciously,  to  glorify  the  good,  and  despise, 
although  with  pity,  the  evil  that  might  be  reconciled  to  the  good. 
But  in  the  centuries  of  unrest  which  accompanied  the  evolution 
of  any  kind  of  civilisation,  either  ancient  or  modern,  how  was 
this  laudable  principle  to  be  maintained'/ 1  This  was  done  by  a 
body  of  the  learned,  existing  in  all  ages  under  peculiar  restric- 
tions, and  at  one  time  known  as  the  Rosicrucian  Fraternity. 
The  Fraternity  of  the  Rosy  Cross,  unlike  the  lower  orders  of 
Freemasons,  seldom  had  gatherings  together.  The  brethren 
were  isolated  from  each  other,  although  aware  of  their  mu- 
tual existence,  and  corresponding  by  secret  and  mysterious 
writings,  and  books,  after  the  introduction  of  printing.  They 
courted  solitude  and  obscurity,  and  sought,  in  the  contemplation 
of  the  divine  qualities  of  the  Creator,  that  beatitude  which  the 
rude  outside  world  despised  or  feared.  In  this  manner,  how- 
ever, they  also  became  the  discoverers  and  conservators  of 
important  physical  secrets,  which,  by  slow  degrees,  they  gradu- 
ally communicated  to  the  world,  with  which,  in  another  sense, 
they  had  so  little  to  do.  It  is  not,  at  the  same  time,  to  be  sup- 
posed that  these  occult  philosophers  either  despised  the  pleasures 
or  discouraged  the  pursuits  of  their  active  contemporaries;  but, 
as  we  ever  find  some  innermost  sanctuary  in  each  noble  and 
sacred  fane,  so  they  retired  to  constitute  a  body  apart,  and 
more  peculiarly  devoted  to  those  mystical  studies  for  which  the 
great  mass  of  mankind  were  unfitted  by  taste  or  character. 
Mildness  and  beneficence  marked  such  courteous  intercourse  as 
their  studious  habits  permitted  them  to  have  with  their  fellow- 
men;  and  in  times  of  danger,  in  centuries  of  great  physical 
suffering,  they  emerged  from  their  retreats  with  the  benevolent 
object  of  vanquishing  and  alleviating  the  calamities  of  mankind. 
In  a  rude  period  of  turmoil,  of  battle,  and  of  political  change, 


l  This,  it  is  seen,  was  the  very  question  which  Francis  Bacon,  at  the  age  of 
fifteen,  proposed  to  himself.    See  Spedding's  Life,  i.  3 ;  and  ante,  chap.  iy. 


202  FRANCIS  BACON 

they  placidly  pursued  their  way,  the  custodians  of  human  learn- 
ing, and  thus  acquired  the  respect,  and  even  the  reverence,  of 
their  less  cultivated  contemporaries.  .  .  .  The  very  fact  of  their 
limited  number  led  to  their  further  elevation  in  the  public 
esteem,  and  there  grew  up  around  them  somewhat  of  'the 
divinity  that  doth  hedge  a  king.'  .  .  . 

"  It  is  easy  at  the  present  day  to  see  that  which  is  held  up 
before  everyone  in  the  broad  light  of  a  tolerant  century ;  but  it 
was  not  so  in  the  days  of  the  Rosicrucians  and  other  fraternities. 
There  was  a  dread,  amongst  the  masses  of  society  in  bygone 
days,  of  the  unseen  —  a  dread,  as  recent  events  and  phenomena 
show  very  clearly,  not  yet  overcome  in  its  entirety.  Hence, 
students  of  nature  and  mind  were  forced  into  an  obscurity  not 
altogether  unwelcome  or  irksome,  but  in  this  obscurity  they  paved 
the  way  for  a  vast  revolution  ir  mental  science.  .  .  .  The  patient 
labours  of  Trittenheim  produced  the  modern  system  of  diplo- 
matic cipher-writing.  Even  the  apparently  aimless  wanderings 
of  the  monks  and  friars  were  associated  with  practical  life,  and 
the  numerous  missals  and  books  of  prayer,  carried  from  camp  to 
camp,  conveyed,  to  the  initiated,  secret  messages  and  intelli- 
gence dangerous  to  be  communicated  in  other  ways.  The  sphere 
of  human  intelligence  was  thus  enlarged,  and  the  freedom  of 
mankind  from  a  pitiless  priesthood,  or  perhaps,  rather,  a  system 
of  tyranny  under  which  that  priesthood  equally  suffered,  was 
ensured. 

"  It  was  a  fact  not  even  disputed  by  Roman  Catholic  writers 
of  the  most  Papal  ideas,  that  the  evils  of  society,  ecclesiastical 
and  lay,  were  materially  increased  by  the  growing  worldliness 
of  each  successive  pontiff.  Hence  we  may  see  why  the  origin 
of  Rosicrucianism  was  veiled  by  symbols,  and  even  its  founder, 
Andrea,  was  not  the  only  philosophical  romancer  —  Plato, 
Apuleius,  Heliodorus,  Lucian,  and  others  had  preceded  him  in 
this  path. 

"  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  one  particular  century,  and 
that  in  which  the  Rosicrucians  first  showed  themselves,  is  dis- 
tinguished in  history  as  the  era  in  which  most  of  these  efforts  at 
throwing  off  the  trammels  of  the  past  occurred.  Hence  the 
opposition  of  the  losing  party,  and  their  virulence  against  any- 
thing mysterious  or  unknown.  They  freely  organised  pseudo- 
Rosicrucian  and  Masonic  societies  in  return,  and  these  societies 
were  instructed  to  irregularly  entrap  the  weaker  brethren  of 
the  True  and  Invisible  Order,  and  then  triumphantly  betray 
anything  they  might  be  so  inconsiderate  as  to  communicate  to 
the  superiors  of  these  transitory  and  unmeaning  associations. 

"  Modern  times  have  eagerly  accepted,  in  the  full  light  of 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  203 

science,  the  precious  inheritance  of  knowledge  bequeathed  by 
the  Rosicrucians,  and  that  body  has  disappeared  from  the  visible 
knowledge  of  mankind,  and  re-entered  that  invisible  fraternity  of 
which  mention  was  made  in  the  opening  of  this  article.  .  .  .  It  is 
not  desirable,  in  a  work  of  this  kind,  to  make  disclosures  of  an 
indiscreet  nature.  The  Brethren  of  the  Rosy  Cross  will  never, 
and  should  not,  at  peril  and  under  alarm,  give  up  their  secrets. 
This  ancient  body  has  apparently  disappeared  from  the  field  of 
human  activity,  but  its  labours  are  being  carried  on  with  alacrity, 
and  tvith  a  sure  delight  in  an  ultimate  success. "  1 

Although,  during  our  search  for  information,  experience  has 
made  us  increasingly  cautious  about  believing  anything  which 
we  read  in  printed  books  concerning  the  Rosicrucians  or  the 
Freemasons,  still  it  seems  almost  impossible  to  discredit  the 
statements  which  have  just  been  quoted;  at  least  it  will  be 
granted  that  the  writer  is  intending  to  tell  the  truth.  He  seems 
also  to  speak  with  knowledge,  if  not  with  authority,  and  such  a 
passage  as  has  been  last  quoted  must,  we  think,  shake  the  opin- 
ion of  those  who  would  maintain  that  the  Rosicrucians,  if  ever 
they  really  existed  and  worked  for  any  good  purpose,  have  cer- 
tainly disappeared,  and  that  there  is  no  such  secret  organisation 
at  the  present  time.  The  facts  of  the  case,  so  far  as  we  have 
been  able  to  trace  them,  are  entirely  in  accordance  with  the 
assertion  that  the  non-existence  of  the  Rosicrucian  Society  is 
only  apparent ;  true,  they  work  quietly  and  unrecognised,  but 
their  labours  are  unremitting,  and  the  beneficial  results  patent 
in  our  very  midst. 

A  great  light  has  been  shed  upon  our  subject  by  the  publica- 
tion in  1S37  of  Mr.  Waite's  remarkable  little  book,  which  has,  for 
the  first  time,  laid  before  the  public  several  tracts  and  manu- 
scripts whose  existence,  if  known  to  previous  investigators,  had 
certainly  been  ignored,  including  different  copies  and  accounts 
of  the  "  Universal  Reformation  of  the  Whole  Wide  World  "  (the 
title  of  one  of  the  chief  Rosicrucian  documents),  as  well  as 
original  editions  of  the  u  Chymical  Marriage  of  Christian  Rosy 


1  From  the  Royal  Masonic  Cyclopaedia,  edited  by  Kenneth  R.  H.  Mackenzie, 
IX  °  ,  pub.  Bro.  John  Hogg,  1877. 


204  FRANCIS  BACON 

Cross, "  ivhich  are  not  in  the  Library  Catalogue. 3  It  is  true,  as 
Mr.  Waite  says,  that  he  is  thus  enabled  to  offer  for  the  first  time 
in  the  literature  of  the  subject  the  Bosicrucians  represented  by 
themselves.2 

This  in val  liable  book  should  bo  read  in  connection  with  another 
important  volume  which  has  since  been  published,  and  which 
follows  the  subject  into  recesses  whither  it  is  impossible  now  to 
attempt  to  penetrate.3  Mr.  Wigston  enters  boldly  and  learnedly 
upon  the  connection  perceivable  between  Bacon's  philosophy 
and  Eosicrucianism,  and  the  whole  book  goes  to  prove,  on  very 
substantial  grounds,  that  Bacon  was  probably  the  founder  and 
certainly  the  mainstay  of  the  society. 

For  those  who  have  not  the  time  or  opportunity  for  much 
reading,  it  may  be  well  again,  briefly,  to  summarize  the  aims  of 
the  Rosicrucians,  as  shown  by  their  professed  publications,  and 
the  rules  and  system  of  work  by  which  they  hoped  to  secure 
those  aims.4  We  gather  from  the  evidence  collected  that  the 
objects  of  the  fraternity  were  threefold : 

1.  To  purify  religion  and  to  stimulate  reform  in  the  church. 

2.  To  promote  and  advance  learning  and  science. 

3.  To  mitigate  the  miseries  of  humanity,  and  to  restore  man  to 
the  original  state  of  purity  and  happiness  from  which,  by  sin,  he 
has  fallen. 

On  comparing  the  utterances  of  the  supposed  authors  of  the 
Rosicrucian  manifestoes  with  Bacon's  reiterated  statements  as 
to  his  own  views  and  aspirations,  we  find  them  to  be  identical  in 
thought  and  sentiment,  sometimes  identical  in  expression.  It 
is  only  necessary  to  refer  to  the  eloquent  and  beautiful  chapter 
with  which  Spedding  opens  his  Letters  and  Life  of  Bacon,  and 

1  Note  how  often  this  is  found  to  be  the  case  where  particulars  throwing 
fresh  light  on  Bacon  or  on  matters  connected  with  him  are  found  in  old  books 
or  libraries. 

2  See  The  Keal  History  of  the  Rosicrucians,  by  A.  S.  Waite,  London,  Red- 
way,  1887. 

3  Bacon,  Shakespeare,  and  the  Rosicrucians,  by  W.  F.  C.  Wigston,  London, 
Red  war,  1889. 

4  The  following  is  chiefly  extracted  from  an  article  in  the  Bacon  Journal, 
January,  1889  (Redway), 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  205 

from  which  some  portions  have  been  already  quoted,  in  order  to 
perceive  how  striking  is  the  general  resemblance  in  aim,  how 
early  the  aspirations  of  Bacon  formed  themselves  into  a  project, 
and  with  what  rapidity  the  project  became  a  great  fact. 

"Assuming,  then,"  concludes  the  biographer,  "that  a  deep 
interest  in  these  three  causes — the  cause  of  reformed  religion,  of 
his  native  country,  and  of  the  human  race  through  all  their  gener- 
ations —  was  thus  early  implanted  in  that  vigorous  and  virgin  soil, 
we  must  leave  it  to  struggle  up  as  it  may,  according  to  the  acci- 
dents of  time  and  weather.  ...  Of  Bacon's  life  I  am  persuaded 
that  no  man  will  ever  form  a  correct  idea,  unless  he  bear  in 
mind  that  from  very  early  youth  his  heart  was  divided  by  these 
three  objects,  distinct,  but  not  discordant. " 

Bacon,  as  we  have  seen,  was  not  fifteen  years  old  when  he  con- 
ceived the  thought  of  founding  a  new  system  for  the  advance- 
ment of  knowledge,  and  for  the  benefit  of  humanity.  The  Ros- 
icrucian  manifestoes  inform  us  that  the  founder  of  the  society,  and 
the  writer  of  one  of  the  most  important  documents,  The 
Chymical  Marriage,  was  a  boy  of  fifteen. 

Mr.  Waite  observes,  naturally  enough,  that  the  knowledge 
evinced  by  the  writer  of  the  paper  in  question,  of  the  practices 
and  purposes  of  alchemy,  must  be  impossible  to  the  most  pre- 
cocious boy.  But  in  mind  Francis  Bacon  never  was  a  boy. 
Some  men,  he  said,  were  always  boys,  their  minds  never  grew 
with  their  bodies,  but  he  reflected,  evidently  thinking  of  him- 
self in  relation  to  others,  that  "  All  is  not  in  yeares,  somewhat 
also  is  in  houres  well  spent. "  i  Never  had  he  been  "  idle  truant, 
omitting  the  sweet  benefit  of  time, "  but  rather  had,  like  Proteus, 
" for  that's  his  name," 

"Made  use  and  fair  advantage  of  his  days, 
His  years  but  young,  but  his  experience  old; 
His  head  unmellowed,  but  his  judgment  ripe  !  "2 

Wonderful  as  it  is,  improbable  as  it  would  appear,  did  we  not 
know  it  to  be  the  case,  the  fact  remains,  that  at  the  age  of  fif- 

1  Promus. 

2  Two  Gentlemen  of  Yerona,  ii.  4. 


206  FRANCIS  BACON 

teen  Francis  Bacon  had  run  through  the  whole  round  of  the 
arts  and  sciences  at  Cambridge,  had  outstripped  his  tutors,  and 
had  left  Cambridge  in  disappointment  and  disgust,  finding 
nothing  more  to  learn  there.  He  did  not  wait  to  pass  a  degree, 
but,  practically,  it  was  acknowledged  that  he  had  more  than 
deserved  it,  for  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  was  conferred  upon 
him  some  time  afterward. 

How  he  spent  the  next  year  is  not  recorded  by  his  biographer, 
but  another  R.  C.  document,  the  Fama  Fraternitatis,  throws  a 
side-light  upon  the  matter.  In  this  paper,  full  as  all  these 
Rosicrucian  manifestoes  are  of  Bacon's  ideas  and  peculiarities 
of  expression,  we  read  that  "  the  high  and  noble  spirit  of  one 
of  the  fraternity  was  stirred  up  to  enter  into  the  scheme  for  a 
general  reformation,  and  to  travel  away  to  the  wise  men  of 
Arabia."  This  we  interpret  to  mean  that,  at  this  time,  the 
young  philosopher  was  entering  his  studies  of  Rhazis,  Avenzoar, 
Averroes,  Avicenna,  and  other  Arabic  physicians  and 
"  Hermetic  "  writers,  from  whom  we  find  him  quoting  in  his 
acknowledged,  as  well  as  in  his  unacknowledged,  writings. 

At  this  time,  the  Fama  informs  us,  this  young  member  was 
sixteen  years  old,  and  for  one  year  he  had  pursued  his  course 
alone. 

What  is  this  likely  to  mean  but  that,  having  left  college,  he 
was  pursuing  his  advanced  studies  by  himself?  It  seems  almost 
a  certainty  that  at  this  period  he  was  endeavouring,  as  so  many 
other  ardent  minds  have  done,  to  get  at  a  knowledge  of  the  first 
causes  of  things.  How  could  he  better  attempt  to  achieve  this 
than  by  going  back  to  the  most  ancient  philosophies  in  order  to 
trace  the  history  of  learning  and  thought  from  the  earliest 
recorded  period  to  his  own  times  ? 

We  shall  presently  have  occasion  to  show  the  immense 
influence  which  the  study  of  the  occult  philosophies  of  India, 
Persia,  Arabia,  and  Egypt  had  upon  the  mind  and  writings  of 
Francis  Bacon,  and  how  he  drew  from  them  the  most  elementary 
aud  universal  symbols  and  emblems  which  are  the  foundations 
of  Freemason  language  and  hieroglyphics.  But  there  is  another 
particular  which  especially  links  Bacon  with  the  whole  system 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  207 

of  Rosicrucianism,  and  this  is  that  very  matter  of  making 
collections  or  dictionaries  which  we  spoke  of  in  the  last  chapter. 
Now,  this  was  not  only  one  of  the  ostensible  objects  of  the 
fraternity,  but  also  the  ostensible  object  of  Francis  Bacon. 
He  claims  the  idea  as  his  own,  and  declares  that  neither  Aristotle 
nor  Theophrastus,  Dioscorides  or  Pliny,  and  much  less  any  of 
the  modern  writers,  have  hitherto  proposed  such  a  thing  to 
themselves.  Spedding  says  Bacon  would  have  found  that  such 
a  dictionary  or  index  of  nature  as  he  contemplated  in  the 
Novum  Organum  must  be  nearly  as  voluminous  as  nature  her- 
self, and  he  gives  the  impression  that  such  a  dictionary  was  not 
attempted  by  Bacon.  Here,  as  will  be  seen,  we  differ  from  this 
admirable  biographer,  and  believe  that  Bacon  did  organise, 
and  himself  commence,  such  a  system  of  note-taking,  alphabet- 
ising, collating,  "transporting,"  etc.,  as  by  the  help  of  "his 
twenty  young  gentlemen, "  his  able  pens,  devoted  friends  in  every 
corner  of  the  civilised  world,  and  especially  from  the  Illuminati, 
Rosy  Cross  brethren,  and  skilled  Freemasons,  to  produce,  within  a 
few  years,  that  truly  cyclopedian  mass  of  books  of  reference, 
which  later  writers  have  merely  digested  or  added  to. 

Bacon  claims  as  his  own  the  method  by  which  this  great  de- 
ficiency is  to  be  supplied. 

Behold,  then,  the  author  of  the  Fama  Fraternitatis  making  a 
precisely  similar  claim : 

"  After  this  manner  began  the  Fraternity  of  the  Rosie  Cross — 
first  by  four  persons  only,  and  by  them  was  made  the  Magical 
Lannage  and  Writing  with  a  large  Dictionary." 

May  not  the  sentence  just  quoted  help  somewhat  to  account 
for  the  extraordinary  likeness,  not  only  in  ideas,  but  in  words, 
of  books,  scientific  and  historical,  which  appeared  before  the 
publication  of  the  great  collections?  Is  it  possible  that  copies 
or  transcripts  may  have  been  made  from  Bacon's  great  manu- 
script dictionaries  by  those  who  would,  with  his  ever-ready  help, 
proceed  to  "  make"  or  "  produce"  a  book?  Were  such  budding 
authors  (Rosicrucians)  allowed  to  come  under  his  roof  to  write 
their  books,  and  use  his  library  and  his  brains? — questions  at 
present  unanswerable,  but  to  be  answered.    Visions  of  Ben 


208  FRANCIS  BACON 

Jonsou  writing  his  "  Apology  for  Bartholomew  Fair  at  the  house 
of  my  Lord  St.  Albans;"  of  Bacon  visiting  Raleigh  in  prison; 
of  the  young  Hobbes  pacing  the  alleys  at  Gorhambury  with  the 
Sage  of  Verulam — these  and  many  other  suggestive  images 
rise  and  dissolve  before  the  eyes  of  one  who  has  tried  to  live  in 
imagination  the  life  of  Francis  Bacon,  and  to  realize  the  way  in 
which  his  faithful  followers  endeavoured  to  fulfil  his  wishes. 

Dictionary  is  a  dry,  prosaic  word  to  modern  ears ;  the  very 
idea  of  having  to  use  one  damps  enthusiasm,  and  drops  us 
"  when  several  yards  above  the  earth"  into  the  study  or  the 
class-room.    But 

"  It  so  falls  out 
That  what  we  have,  we  prize  not  to  the  worth 
"Whiles  we  enjoy  it ;  but  being  lack'd  and  lost, 
Why,  then,  we  rack  the  value. "  i 

Now  think,  if  we  had  no  dictionaries,  how  we  should  lack 
them,  and  having  made  even  one  poor  little  note-book  on  any 
subject  which  closely  concerns  us,  how  we  prize  it,  and  rack  its 
value!  So  did  Bacon.  The  making  of  dictionaries  was  to  him 
a  sacred  duty,  one  of  the  first  and  most  needful  steps  toward 
the  accomplishment  of  his  great  ends. 

"  I  want  this  primary  history  to  be  compiled  with  a  religious 
care,  as  if  every  particular  were  stated  on  oath;  seeing  that  is  the 
book  of  God's  works,  and  (so  far  as  the  majesty  of  the  heavenly 
may  be  compared  with  the  humbleness  of  earthly  things)  a  kind 
of  second  Scripture. " 

He  sees  that  such  a  vast  and  difficult  work  is  only  to  be  ac- 
complished by  means  of  co-operation,  and  by  co-operation  on  a 
methodical  plan.  These  convictions  are  most  clearly  seen  in 
Bacon's  most  Rosicrucian  works,  the  New  Atlantis,  Parasceve, 
Natural  and  Experimental  History,  and  other  "fragmentary" 
pieces.  "  If,"  he  says,  "  all  the  wits  of  all  ages,  which  hitherto 
have  been,  or  hereafter  shall  be,  were  clubbed  together;  if  all 
mankind  had  given,  or  should  hereafter  give,  their  minds  wholly 
to  philosophy,  and  if  the  whole  world  were,  or  should  be,  com- 
posed of  nothing  but  academies,  colleges,  and  schools  of  learned 

1  M.  Ado,  iv.  1. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  209 

men;  yet,  without  such  a  natural  and  experimental  history  as 
we  shall  now  prescribe,  we  deny  that  there  could  be,  or  can  be, 
any  progress  in  philosophy  and  other  sciences  worthy  of  man- 
kind." 

The  author  of  Fama  reflects  in  precisely  the  same  fashion, 
writing  the  thought  of  the  sacred  nature  of  such  a  work,  and 
the  thought  that  it  is  a  kind  of  second  Scripture,  with  that 
other  most  important  reflection  as  to  the  necessity  for  unity, 
and  a  combination  of  wits,  if  real  progress  is  to  be  made  and  a 
book  of  nature  or  a  perfect  method  of  all  arts  be  achieved. 

"  Seeing  the  only  wise  and  merciful  God  in  these  latter  days 
hath  poured  so  richly  His  mercy  and  goodness  to  mankind, 
whereby  we  do  attain  more  and  more  to  the  knowledge  of  His 
Son  Jesus  Christ,  and  of  nature, ...  He  hath  also  made  manifest 
unto  us  many  wonderful  and  never- heretofore-seen  works  and 
creatures  of  nature;  .  .  so  that  finally  man  might  thereby 
understand  his  own  nobleness  and  worth,  and  why  he  is  called 
Microcosmus,  and  how  far  his  knowledge  extendeth  in  nature. 

"  Although  the  rude  world  herewith  will  be  but  little  pleased, 
but  rather  smile  and  scoff  thereat;  also  the  pride  and  covet- 
ousness  of  the  learned  is  so  great,  it  will  not  suffer  them  to  agree 
together;  but  ivere  they  united,  they  might,  out  of  all  those  things 
which  in  this  our  age  God  doth  so  richly  bestow  upon  us,  collect 
Librum  Naturae,  or  a  perfect  method  of  all  arts."  x 

"  The  College  of  the  Six  Days,"  which  Bacon  described,  is, 
we  know,  the  College  of  the  Rosicruciaus,  who  accept  the  New 
Atlantis,  in  its  old  form,  as  a  Rosicrucian  document,  and 
allow  it  to  be  circulated  under  a  changed  title. 

The  hopelessness  and  impossibility  of  attempting  to  perform 
single-handed  all  that  his  enthusiasm  for  humanity  prompted, 
and  that  his  prophetic  soul  foresaw  for  distant  ages,  often 
oppressed  his  mind,  and  as  often  he  summoned  his  energies,  his 
philosophy,  and  his  faith  in  God,  to  comfort  and  encourage  him 
to  the  work.  This  is  all  very  distinctly  traceable  in  the  Promus 
notes,  which  are  so  frequently  quoted  in  the  Shakespeare  plays. 
Amongst  the  early  entries,  in  the  sprawling  Anglo-Saxon  hand- 
writing of  his  youth,  he  records  his  intention  to  use  "  Ingenuous 
honesty,  and  yet  with  opposition  and  strength.     Good  means 

1  Fama  Fratemitalis  —  Real  History  of  the  Rosicrucians ;  A.  S.  Waite. 
14 


210  FRANCIS  BACON 

against  badd,  homes  to  crosses."1  "The  ungodly,"  he  next 
reflects,  "walk  around  on  every  side."  "I  was  silent  from 
good  words,  and  my  grief  was  renewed, "  but  "  I  believed  and 
therefore  have  I  spoken;  "  and  he  is  resolute  in  trying  to  do  what 
he  feels  to  be  his  duty,  for  "  The  memory  of  the  just  lives  with 
praise,  but  the  name  of  the  wicked  shall  rot. "  Here  we  find 
him  registering  his  resolves  to  do  good  to  others,  regardless  of 
private  advantage  or  profit.  This,  it  will  be  seen,  is  one  of  the 
cardinal  rales  of  the  Rosy  Cross  Brethren.  They  were  "  to  cure 
the  sick  gratis,"  to  seek  for  no  pecuniary  profit  or  reward  for  the 
works  which  they  produced  for  the  benefit  of  others.  "  Buy  the 
truth,"  say  Bacon's  notes,  "  and  sell  it  not."  "  He  who  hast- 
ethto  be  rich  shall  not  be  innocent,"  but  "  Give  not  that  which 
is  holy  unto  dogs. "  He  foresaw,  or  had  already  experienced  in 
his  own  short  life,  the  manner  in  which  the  "  dogs  "  or  cynics  of 
public  opinion  and  of  common  ignorance  would  quarrel  over 
and  tear  to  pieces  every  scrap  of  new  knowledge  which  he  pre- 
sented to  them.  "The  devil,"  he  says  farther  on,  "hath  cast 
a  bone  to  set  strife."  But  this  should  not  hinder  him.  "We 
ought  to  obey  God  rather  than  man,"  "  aud  the  fire  shall  try 
every  man's  work,  of  what  sort  it  is;  "  "  for  we  can  do  nothing 
against  the  truth,  but  much  for  the  truth."  And  the.n  he  seems 
to  prepare  his  mind  to  suffer  on  account  of  the  efforts  which  he 
was  making  on  mankind's  behalf.  He  remembers  that  our 
Blessed  Lord  Himself  suffered  in  the  same  way,  and  writes  a 
memorandum  from  this  verse :  "  Many  good  works  have  I  showed 
you  of  my  Father;  for  which  of  those  works  do  ye  stone  me?  " 
Whatever  might  be  the  judgment  upon  him  and  his  works,  he 
would  rest  in  the  assurance  of  St.  Paul:  "  I  have  fought  a  good 
fight,  I  have  finished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the  faith."  We 
hardly  think  that  he  stopped  here  in  the  quotation.  Although 
he  does  not  write  down  the  other  half  of  the  passage,  his  ardent 
soul  treasured,  and  his  works  reflect  in  a  thousand  different  ways 
the  inspiring  and  triumphant  hope  of  recognition  in  that  future 
life  to  which  he  was  always  looking:  "  Henceforward  there  is 

1  See  in  the  chapter  on  Paper  Marks  the  Symbols  of  Horns  aud  Crosses,  to 
which,  perhaps,  the  entry  alludes. 


AND  His  SECRET  SOCIETY.  211 

laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the 
righteous  Judge,  shall  give  me  at  that  day,  and  not  to  me  only, 
but  to  all  that  love  His  appearing. ,r  1 

But  meanwhile,  how  to  do  all  that  he  felt  and  knew  to  be 
necessary,  and  yet  which  could  only  be  done  by  himself,  we  see 
hiin  again  in  the  notes  reflecting  that  victory  can  be  gained  by 
means  of  numbers;  that  "  things  united  are  more  powerful  or  bet- 
ter than  things  not  united;  "  that  "  two  eyes  are  better  than  one;  " 
"  So  many  heades  so  many  wits;  "  "  Friends  have  all  things  in 
common;  "  "  Many  things  taken  together  are  helpful,  which  taken 
singly  are  of  no  use;  "  "  One  must  take  men  as  they  are,  and 
times  as  they  are;  "  but,  on  the  whole,  he  seems  to  think  that 
most  men  are  serviceable  for  something,  that  every  properly 
instructed  tongue  may  be  made  to  bear  witness,  and  that  it  must 
be  one  part  of  his  work  to  draw  together  so  great  a  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses as  may  perform  the  part  of  a  chorus,  endorsing,  echoing, 
or  capping  the  doctrines  of  the  new  philosophy  as  they  were 
uttered,  and  giving  a  support,  as  of  public  opinion,  both  at  home 
and  abroad. 

Yye  now  know  that  many  of  Bacon's  works  were  transmitted 
"  beyond  the  seas,"  to  France,  Spain,  Italy,  Germany.and  Holland, 
where  they  were  translated  and  surreptitiously  published, 
usually  under  other  names  than  his  own.  There  are,  when  we 
come  to  collect  them,  many  indications  iu  the  Promus  of  a  secret 
to  be  kept,  and  of  a  system  planned  for  the  keeping  of  it. 

"  The  glory  of  God,"  we  read,  is  "  to  conceal  a  thing  " — and 
there  are  many  "  secrets  of  God."  "  Woorke  as  God  ivoorkes  " — • 
quietly,  persistently,  secretly  —  unheeded,  except  by  those  who 
read  in  His  infinite  book  of  secresy.  "  Plutoe's  helmet "  is  said  to 
have  produced  "  invisibility."  "  The  gods  have  woollen  feet"  — 
i.  e.,  steal  on  us  unawares.  "  Triceps  Mercurius,  great  rwnying," 
alludes,  perhaps,  to  the  little  anonymous  book  of  cipher  called 
"  Mercury,  the  Secret  and  Swift  Messenger,"  which  reproduces  so 
accurately  (and  without  acknowledging  him)  Bacon's  biliteral 
cipher,  and  many  other  particulars  told  precisely  after  his 
manner,  that  we  believe  it  to  be  the  brief  summary  by  himself 

12  Tim.  iv.  7,  8. 


212  FRANCIS  BACON 

< 

of  some  much  larger  works.  But  he  also  notes  that  "  a  Mercury 
cannot  be  made  of  every  word,"  that  is,  a  dull  fellow  will  never 
he  made  a  clever  one;  nevertheless  "a  true  servant  may  he 
made  of  an  unlikely  piece  of  wood/' 1  and  he  had  a  faculty  for 
attaching  people  to  him  and  for  bringing  out  all  that  was  best 
and  most  serviceable  in  their  natures. 

The  next  note  says  that  "  Princes  have  a  cypher."  Was  he 
thinking  that  he,  the  prince  of  writers,  would  use  one  for  his 
royal  purposes?    A  few  Hues  earlier  is  this  entry: 

"  Iisdem  e'  Uteris  efficitur  tragoedia  et  coinedia*' 
(Tragedies  and  comedies  are  made  of  one  alphabet), 

which  we  now  know  refers  to  the  cipher  narrative  for  which  the 
pass-word  was  the  alphabet,  and  which  is  found  running  through 
the  Shakespeare  tragedies  and  comedies.  2 

Such  entries  as  these,  suggestive  of  some  mystery,  are  inter- 
esting when  taken  in  connection  with  other  evidence  derivable 
from  Bacon's  manuscript  books,  where  the  jottings  have  been 
more  methodised  or  reduced  from  other  notes.  In  the  Com- 
mentaries or  Transportata,  which  can  be  seen  in  MS.  at  the 
British  Museum,  we  find  him  maturing  his  plans  for  depreciating 
"  the  philosophy  of  the  Grecians,  with  some  better  respect  to  ye 
iEgiptians,  Persians,  and  Chaldees,  and  the  utmost  antiquity, 
and  the  mysteries  of  the  poets. "  "  To  consyder  what  opynions 
are  fitt  to  nourish  Tanquam  Ansa,  so  as  to  graft  the  new  upon 
the  old,  ut  religiones  solcnt, "  of  the  "  ordinary  cours  of  incompe- 

1  See  letter  to  Lord  Pickering,  1594. 

2  "  I  have  sent  yon  some  copies  of  the  Advancement,  which  yon  desired;  and  a 
little  work  of  my  recreation,  which  you  desired  not.  My  Instauration  I  reserve 
for  our  conference — it  sleeps  not.  Those  works  of  the  alphabet,  are,  in  my 
opinion,  of  less  use  to  you  where  you  are  now,  than  at  Paris,  and,  therefore,  I 
conceived  that  you  had  sent  me  a  kind  of  tacit  countermand  of  .your  former 
request.  But  in  regard  that  some  friends  of  yours  have  still  insisted  here,  I 
send  them  to  you ;  and  for  my  part  I  value  your  own  reading  more  than  your 
publishing  them  to  others.  Thus,  in  extreme  haste,  I  have  scribbled  to  you  I 
knownot  what.  " — {Letter  from  Bacon  to  Sir  Tobie  Matthew,  160;).) 

"What  these  works  of  the  alphabet  may  have  been,  I  cannot  guess;  unless 
they  related  to  Bacon's  cipher,"  etc.  —  (Spedd'uufs  comment  on  the  above  words, 
i.  659.) 

See  also  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  ii. :  Spedding,  iii.  319,  where  Bacon 
quotes  Aristotle  to  show  that  words  arc  the  images  of  cogitations,  and  letters 
are  the  images  of  words. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  213 

tency  of  reason  for  natural  philosophy  and  invention  of  woorks. " 
"  Also  of  means  to  procure  '  histories'  of  all  things  natural  and 
mechanical,  lists  of  errors,  observations,  axioms,  &c."  Then 
follow  entries  from  which  we  abridge : 

"  Layeing  for  a  place  to  command  wytts  and  pennes,  West- 
minster, Eton,  Winchester;  specially )  Trinity  Coll.,  Cam.;  St. 
John's,  Cam.;  Maudlin  Coll.,  Oxford. 

"  Qu.  Of  young  schollars  in  ye  universities.  It  must  be  the 
post  nati.  Giving  pensions  to  four,  to  compile  the  two  histories, 
ut  supra.  Fouudac :  Of  a  college  for  inventors,  Library,  Ingi- 
nary. 

"  Qu.  Of  the  order  and  discipline,  the  rules  and  prsescnpts  of 
their  studyes  and  inquyries,  allowances  for  travailing,  intelli- 
gence, and  correspondence  with  ye  universities  abroad. 

"  Qu.  Of  the  maner  and  prescripts  touching  secresy,  tradi- 
tions, and  publication. " 

Here  we  have  a  complete  sketch  of  the  elaborate  design  which 
was  to  be  worked  out ;  and  we  wonder  —  yes,  we  wonder,  with 
an  astonishment  which  increases  as  we  approach  the  matter  — 
how  these  remarkable  jottings,  so  pregnant  with  suggestion, 
speaking  to  us  in  every  line  of  a  vast  and  deeply-laid  scheme, 
should  have  been  so  lightly  (or  can  it  be  so  purposely)  passed 
over  in  every  life  or  biography  of  Bacon.  Here  he  was  laying 
his  plans  to  "  command  wits  and  pens  "  in  all  the  great  public 
schools,  and  especially  in  the  principal  colleges  of  the  univer- 
sities. He  was  endeavouring  to  secure  the  services  of  the  cleverest 
scholars  to  assist  him  in  working  out  a  scheme  of  his  own.  They 
were  especially  to  be  young  scholars,  who  should  have  imbibed, 
or  who  were  capable  of  imbibing,  the  advanced  ideas  produced  by 
the  "  new  birth  of  time, "  which  he  had  himself  inaugurated.  To 
work  out  new  ideas,  one  must  have  fresh  and  supple  material;  and 
minds  belonging  to  bodies  which  have  existed  for  nearly  half  a 
century  are  rarely  either  supple  or  easily  receptive  of  new  ideas. 
Bacon,  therefore,  did  not  choose,  for  the  main  stuff  and  fibre  of 
his  great  reforming  society,  men  of  his  own  age  (he  was  now 
forty-seven);  he  wisely  sought  out  the  brightest  and  freshest  of 
the  sons  of  the  morning,  the  cream  of  youthful  talent,  wher- 
ever it  was  to  be  discovered. 

Would  it  not  be  a  pursuit  as  exciting  as  profitable  to  hunt 


214  FRANCIS  BACON 

out  and  track  the  footsteps  of  those  choice  young  wits  and  pens 
of  the  new  school,  of  the  Temporis  Partus  Masculus,  and  Partis 
Secundo  Dclineatio,  of  which  Bacon  thought  and  wrote  so  much, 
and  to  see  what  various  aids  these  "  young  schollars  "  were  able 
to  afford  for  his  great  work?  One  line  of  work  is  clearly  indi- 
cated: tbey  were,  under  his  own  instructions,  to  collect  materials 
for  compiling  "histories"  on  natural  philosophy  and  on  inven- 
tions in  the  mechanical  arts — as  we  should  now  say,  the  applied 
sciences.  One  work  is  specified,  as  to  its  contents  and  nature. 
It  is  to  be  a  "history  of  marvailes"  with  "all  the  popular 
errors  detected."  Such  a  book  was  published  shortly  after 
Bacon's  death  by  a  young  Oxford  man,  of  whom  we  shall  by- 
and-by  have  occasion  to  speak.  Another  history  is  of  "  Mech- 
anique;"  it  is  to  be  compiled  with  care  and  diligence,  and  a 
school  of  science  is  to  be  established  for  the  special  study  of  the 
art  of  invention.  "  A  college,  furnished  with  all  necessary 
scientific  apparatus,  workshops  and  materials  for  experiments. " 
Not  only  so,  but  Bacon  proposes  to  give  pensions  to  four  of  his 
young  men,  in  order  that  they  might  freely  devote  themselves 
to  scientific  or  philosophic  research.  Some  were  also  to  have 
"  allowances  for  travelling, "  which  proves  that  their  field  of 
research  and  for  the  gleaning  of  materials  was  not  to  be  confined 
only  to  their  own  country,  but  "  inquiries  and  correspondence  with 
ye  universities  abroad"  were  to  form  an  important  element  in 
the  scheme. 

The  works  which  were  the  product  of  this  wise  and  liberal 
scheme  of  Bacou's  will  not  be  difficult  of  identification.  They 
belong  to  the  class  of  which  the  author  said  that  they  did  not 
pretend  to  originality,  but  that  they  were  flowers  culled  from 
every  man's  garden  and  tied  together  by  a  thread  of  his  own. 

It  is  clear  that  the  wits  and  pens  of  the  "  young  schollars" 
(who,  we  learn  from  the  Rosicrucian  documents,  were  to  be 
sixty -three  in  number)  were  chartered  and  secured  under  the 
seal  of  secresy.  The  last  of  the  manifestoes  in  Mr.  Waite's 
book  contains  this  passage,  in  which  few  who  have  read  much 
of  Bacon  will  fail  to  recognise  his  sentiments,  his  intentions — 
nay,  his  very  words: 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  215 

«  I  was  twenty  when  this  book  was  fi^d;  Mwth^B  I 

rasas  SS5S£**s  ssasai 

loved  and  honoured  friends. " 

This  is  the  very  sentiment  which  caused  Bacon  to  contrive 

some  method  of  handing  down,  hy  means  of  those  very  friends, 

ZlZp  of  Tradition,  which  he  could  not  legacy,  hut  which, 
"hefcvef  forthcoming  and  hy  whomsoever  rubbed,  brings  up  on 

the  snot  the  spirit  of  the  Lamp,  Francis  Bacon  himself. 

Xs  glance  for  a  few  minutes  at  «  the  order  and  discipline 
the  rules  and  prescripts,"  which  were  instituted  for  the  use  of 
he  Rosicnician  Fraternity,  or  may  we  not  safely  say  for  the  use 
S Bacon's  «  young  schollars  »  and  friends?  The  origma  rales 
were  fifty-two  in  number,  but  only  the  leading  features  of  them 
TaTbe  noted,  numbers  being  placed  against  them  for  the  sake 
of  brevity  in  reference :  . 

1.  The  society  was  to  consist  of   ^ty-toee  m^be„f  rf 
various    grades   of    initiation,  apprentices,  brethren,  and  an 

"  ^Tnesewlre  all  sworn  to  secresy  for  a  period  of  one  hundred 


years. 


'  \    T~  «.****  «,»  "—Much  v  5.    "Cassius  is  aweary  of  the 

1  "I  'oin  to  be  aweary  of  the  sun.  — maw.  v.  ^. 

world."— Jul.  Cws.  iv.  3. 

2  Compare  Bacon's  posthumous  or  second  Essay  Of  Death. 

3  See  Bacon's  Tracts  of  the  Law,  Spedding,  Works,  vii. 


216  FRANCIS  BACON 

3.  They  were  to  have  secret  names,  but  to  pass  in  public  by 
their  own  names. 

4.  To  wear  the  dress  of  the  country  in  which  they  resided. 

5.  To  profess  ignorance,  if  interrogated,  on  all  subjects  con- 
nected with  the  society,  except  the  Art  of  Healing. 

6.  To  cure  the  sick  gratis  (sickness  and  healing  seem  to  have 
been  terms  used,  metaphorically,  for  ignorance,  and  instruction 
or  knowledge). 

7.  In  all  ways  and  places  to  oppose  the  aggressions  and  un- 
mask the  impositions  of  the  Romish  church  —  the  Papacy. 

8.  To  aid  in  the  dissemination  of  truth  and  knowledge 
throughout  all  countries. 

9.  Writings,  if  carried  about,  were  to  be  written  in  ambiguous 
language,  or  in  "  secret  writing."    (Query,  in  cipher?) 

10.  Rosicrucian  works  were,  as  a  rule,  not  to  be  published 
under  the  real  name  of  their  author.  Pseudonyms,  mottoes,  or 
initials  {not  the  author's  own)  were  to  be  adopted. 

11.  These  feigned  names  and  signatures  were  to  be  frequently 
changed.  The  "  imperator  "  to  change  his  name  not  less 
frequently  than  once  in  ten  years. 

12.  The  places  of  publication  for  the  "  secret  writiugs  "  to  be 
also  periodically  changed. 

13.  Each  jnember  was  to  have  at  least  one  "  apprentice  "  to 
succeed  him  and  to  take  over  his  work.  (By  which  means  the 
secret  writings  could  be  passed  down  from  one  hand  to  another 
until  the  time  was  ripe  for  their  disclosure.) 

14.  The  Brethren  must  suffer  any  punishment,  even  to  death 
itself,  sooner  than  disclose  the  secrets  specially  confided  to  them. 

15.  They  must  apply  themselves  to  making  friends  with  the 
powerful  and  the  learned  of  all  countries. 

16.  They  must  strive  to  become  rich,  not  for  the  sake  of  money 
itself,  for  they  must  spend  it  broadcast  for  the  good  of  others, 
but  for  the  sake  of  the  advantages  afforded  by  wealth  and  posi- 
tion for  pushing  forward  the  beneficent  objects  of  the  society.1 

l  The  working  of  this  rule  is  observable  throughout  the  whole  of  Bacon's  life 
and  writings.  It  accounts  for  the  diametrically  opposite  accusations  which  have 
been  levelled  against  him  and  which  his  enemies  have  delighted  to  magnify,  of 
meanness  and  lavishness.     " .Riches,"  he  says,  "are  for  spending,  and  spending 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  217 

17.  They  were  to  promote  the  building  of  "  fair  houses  "  for 
the  advancement  of  learning,  and  for  the  relief  of  sickness,  dis- 
tress, age,  or  poverty. 

18.  When  a  Rosiprucian  died  he  was  to  be  quietly  and  unos- 
tentatiously buried.  His  grave  was  either  to  be  left  without  a 
tombstone,  or,  if  his  friends  chose  to  erect  a  monument  in  his 
honour,  the  inscription  upon  it  ivas  to  be  ambiguous. 

It  is  needless  to  show  what  an  engine  such  a  society  would  be, 
driven  by  such  a  motive  power  as  Bacon,  one  original  mind, 
endowed  in  almost  equally  balanced  proportions  with  every  in- 
tellectual faculty;  equally  capable  of  the  quick  perception  of 
ideas,  as  of  their  prompt  acquisition  and  application  to  useful 
purposes.  With  all  this,  Bacon  possessed  the  still  rarer  faculty 
of  being  able  to  communicate  his  ideas,  to  impress  them  upon 
the  dull,  dead  minds  of  the  many,  as  well  as  upon  the  more 
receptive  apprehensions  of  the  few.  Where  opposition  to  direct 
teaching  or  advance  in  any  kind  of  knowledge  existed,  there  his 
versatile  genius,  the  "  nimbleness  of  mind,"  of  which  he  was 
conscious,  enabled  him  to  devise  methods  "  to  let  new  light  in 
upon  the  understanding,  and  conquer  prejudice  without  raising 
contests,  animosities,  opposition  or  disturbance,"1  to  speak 
truth  with  a  laughing  face.  2 

We  are  disposed  to  shrink  from  the  facts  which  stare  us  in  the 
face,  and  to  say :  Is  it  possible  that  one  man  can  have  dared 
and  accomplished  so  much?  Is  it  possible  that  any  one  brain 
could  have  been  capable  enough,  any  life  long  enough,  to  enable 
one  man  to  have  not  only  planned,  but  carried  through,  the 


for  honour  and  pood  actions.  .  .  .  I  cannot  call  riches  better  than  the  baggage  of 
virtue;  the  Kornan  word  is  better,  '  impedimenta,'  for  as  the  baggage  is  to  an 
army,  so  is  riches  to  virtue;  it  cannot  be  spared  nor  left  behind,  but  it  hindereth 
the  march.  .  .  .  Of  great  riches  there  is  no  real  use  except  it  be  in  the  distribution; 
the  rest  is  but  conceit."  "Money  is  like  muck,  not  good  except  it  be  spread.'1''  In 
the  same  spirit,  and  with  the  same  metaphor,  Coriolan  us  is  said  to  have  regarded 
riches.  "  Our  spoils  he  ticked  at,  and  looked  upon  things  precious  as  they 
were  the  common  muck  o'  lite  world." — Cor.  ii.  3.  Compare  Essays  Of  Expense 
and  Of  Riches  with  the  speeches  of  the  fallen  Wolsey,  Henry  VIII.  iii.  2, 106,  etc., 
and  with  Timon  of  Athens,  i.  '2,  90,  etc.,  ii.  1,  etc. 

l  Pref.  to  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients. 

2Promus,  10.1. 


218  FRANCIS  BACON 

amount  of  works  of  infinitely  varied  kinds  in  which  we  find 
Bacon  engaged?  Is  it  possible  that  he  could  have  found  time 
to  read,  cogitate,  write,  and  publish  this  enormous  quantity  of 
valuable  works,  each  pre-eminent  in  its  own  way;  to  have  filled 
some  of  them  with  elaborate  ciphers,  and  to  have  made  many  of 
them  means  of  conveying  information  secret  as  well  as  ostensi- 
ble? With  all  this  can  we  conceive  him  also  experimenting  to 
the  extent  which  we  know  he  did  in  every  branch  of  natural 
philosophy,  breaking  a  gap  into  every  fresh  matter,  noting  de- 
ficiencies in  old  studies,  and  setting  to  work  to  supply  them;  in 
each  case  originating  and  inaugurating  new  ideas — a  very  dif- 
ferent affair  from  merely  imitating,  or  following  where  another 
has  gone  before  ? 

In  truth,  a  hasty  judgment  would  pronounce  these  things  to 
be  impossible  and  contrary  to  common  sense.  But  this  merely 
means  unparalleled  in  the  speaker's  experience.  No  other  man 
has  ever  been  known  to  perform  such  work  as  we  claim  for 
Francis  Bacon. 

But  Bacon  was  no  ordinary  man.  He  was  an  intellectual 
giant,  born  into  a  world  which  seemed  to  him  to  be  chiefly  peo- 
pled with  pigmies;  the  spiritual  and  intellectual  life  of  the 
world  stunted,  deformed,  diseased,  and  sick  unto  death  through 
ignorance  and  the  sins  which  ignorance  nourishes  and  strength- 
ens. With  his  herculean  powers  and  eagle-sighted  faculties  of 
imagination,  keen  to  perceive,  subtle  to  devise,  prompt  to  act, 
skilful  in  practical  details,  what  might  he  not  do  with  four 
"pensioned"  able  pens  continually  at  his  "command,"  and 
sixty-three  of  the  choicest  scholars  of  the  universities  to  assist 
in  the  more  mechanical  parts  of  the  work;  to  transcribe,  collate, 
and  reduce  into  orderly  form  the  "  collections, "  historical,  scien- 
tific, ethical,  or  phraseological,  which,  during  his  life,  were  to 
stand  for  him  and  for  them  in  the  place  of  modern  books  of 
reference,  and  which,  after  his  death,  were  to  be  published  as 
"  histories,"  "  dictionaries,"  "  collections,  "etc.,  under  the  names 
of  those  who  were  the  ostensible  editors  or  "  producers"  of 
works  which  they  would  have  been  incapable  of  originating? 

Whilst  these  men  were  thus  writing  under  his  eye,  or  accord- 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  219 

ing  to  his  "  prescripts, "  Bacon  himself,  in  the  quiet  of  his  library 
or  tower,  sometimes  in  his  "  full  poor  cell"  in  Gray's  Inn,  was 
cogitatiug,  note-taking,  dreaming,  experimenting,  composing, 
or  "  inventing." 

"  Out  of  's  self-drawing  web  he  gives  us  note; 

The  force  of  his  own  merit  makes  his  way: 

A  gift  that  Heaven  gives  for  him."  i 

The  credibility  of  such  assumptions  is  increased  when  we 
endeavour  to  realise  how  things  would  stand  with  ourselves  if, 
from  our  earliest  childhood,  everything  that  we  had  lisped  had 
been  noticeable;  if  our  earliest  writings  had  been  worthy  of 
preservation ;  if  every  letter,  every  word  we  wrote  had  been 
religiously  stored,  revised,  and  by  and  by  published.  "  I  add, 
but  I  never  alter;  "  that  seems  to  have  been  part  of  Bacon's 
method,  and  thus  edition  after  edition,  each  time  improved 
and  augmented,  was  produced,  the  same  material  being  utilised 
in  various  ways  over  and  over  again. 

Bacon  was  never  idle.  Recreation  with  him  was  not  idleness, 
but  merely  a  change  of  occupation.  He  never  plodded  upon 
books,  but  read,  taking  notes,  or  perhaps  marking  extracts  for 
others  to  write  out.  Thus  he  wasted  no  moment  of  time,  nor 
allowed  one  drop  of  his  freshly  distilled  knowledge  to  evaporate 
or  be  lost,  but  carefully  treasured  and  stored  it  up  in  "  vases  " 
or  note-books,  where  he  could  at  any  moment  draw  it  out 
afresh. 

There  is  good  reason  for  thinking  that  he  largely  encouraged 
the  use  of  stenography  or  shorthand  writing ;  that  his  friends 
sat  round  him  as  the  disciples  of  the  ancient  philosophers  sat 
round  their  masters,  listening  to  his  words,  and  often  writing 
down  his  utterances,  or  his  entire  discourses.  The  facility  with 
which  he  expressed  himself,  the  grace  and  sweetness  of  his 
language,  and  the  marvellous  fulness  of  his  conversation  were 
perpetual  themes  of  admiration  and  wonder.  "His  meals," 
says  Dr.  Rawley,  "  were  refections  of  the  ear  as  well  as  of  the 
stomach,  like  the  Nodes  Attica,  or  ConviviaDeipus-SopJustarum, 
wherein  a  man  might  be  refreshed  in  his  mind  and  understand- 

i  Henry  VIII.  i.  1. 


220  FRANCIS  BACON 

ing,  no  less  than  in  his  body.  And  I  have  known  some,  of  no 
mean  parts,  that  have  professed  to  make  use  of  their  note-books 
when  they  have  risen  from  table. "  l 

Both  the  matter  and  the  manner  of  John  Seidell's  "  Table 
Talk  "  assure  us  that  this  and  several  other  similar  books  are 
merely  transcripts  of  such  hasty  notes  of  words  which  dropped 
from  Bacon's  lips,  reproduced  as  accurately  as  possible,  and 
treasured  up  for  the  benefit  of  posterity  by  his  loving  friends. 

To  look  a  little  into  the  rules  of  the  Rosicross  brethren,  Bacon's 
"  Sons  of  Science, "  and  of  whom  we  believe  him  to  have  been 
the  "  Iinperator  "  or  supreme  head  : 

Bales  1,  13  and  15  help  us  to  grasp  the  possibility  of  Bacon's 
having  produced  the  enormous  quantity  of  books  which  will 
surely,  in  the  future  ages,  be  claimed  for  him,  and  which  can  b3 
proved,  by  all  that  has  hitherto  passed  as  conclusive  evidence 
with  regard  to  other  works,  to  be  the  work  of  one  author. 

Rules  2,  10,  11,  12  and  14  suffice  to  answer  the  oft-repeated 
query:  Why  did  not  Bacon  acknowledge  his  own  works?  or  why 
did  not  his  friends  vindicate  his  claim  to  them  ?  He,  as  well  as  his 
friends,  had  sworn  solemnly  to  keep  the  secrets  of  the  society 
for  a  period  of  one  hundred  years. 

Bales  3,  10  and  11  enible  us  to  reconcile  many  difficulties  as 
to  the  authorship  of  certain  works.  For  instance,  in  the  anthol- 
ogy entitled  "England's  Helicon,"  there  are  poems  which 
have,  at  different  times,  borne  two,  three  or  even  four  different 
signatures.  If  the  Rosicrucian  publications  were  not,  as  a  rule,  to 
bear  the  name  of  the  author,  and  if  the  feigned  names  of  the 
brethren  were  to  be  frequently  changed,  confusion  and  mys- 
tification as  to  the  true  author  would  inevitably  be  produced. 
It  would  be  impossible  to  draw  any  irrefutable  conclusions  as  to 
the  date  and  sometimes  as  to  the  aim  of  the  works  in  question, 
and  this,  doubtless,  was  precisely  what  the  secret  society 
desired. 

i  It  seems  possible  that  traditions  of  such  delightful  meals  as  Dr.  Rawley 
here  records,  and  in  which  Bacon  delighted  "  to  draw  a  man  on,  and  allure  him 
to  speak  upon  such  a  subject  as  wherein,  he  wis  peculiar///  skilful,"  may  have  taken 
place  at  the  "  Mermaid,"  where  the  chief  wits  of  the  day  are  said  to  have 
enjoyed  their  "  wit  combats." 


AND  MIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  221 

Rules  8  and  13,  especially  when  taken  together  with  the  pre- 
ceding, throw  great  light  on  the  publication  of  such  works  as 
"  Montaigne's  Essays  "  in  France,  of  its  supposed  translation,  in 
1603,  from  French  into  pure  Baconian  English,  by  the  Italian 
Florio,  tutor  to  the  English  royal  family,  and  of  the  large  addi- 
tions and  alterations,  such  as  none  bat  the  author  could  have 
presumed  to  make,  in  the  later  edition  published  by  Cotton  in 
1685-6. 

Rule  8  seems  also  to  explain  the  fact  of  many  of  Bacon's  most 
intimate  friends  having  passed  so  much  of  their  time  abroad,  in 
days  when  to  travel  was  a  distinction,  bat  not  an  every-day  occur- 
rence, and  when,  indeed,  it  required  the  royal  sanction  to  leave 
the  country.  So  Anthony  Bacon  lived  for  many  years  in  Italy 
and  the  south  of  France,  very  little  being  absolutely  known 
about  his  proceedings.  Mr.  Doyly,  Bacon's  first  recorded  cor- 
respondent, was  at  Paris  when  he  received  a  mysterious  letter 
explaining  something  in  an  ambiguous  manner.  Bacon's  answer 
is  equally  misty:  "  he  studiously  avoids  particulars,  and  means 
to  be  intelligible  only  to  the  person  he  is  addressing."1 

This  Mr.  Doyly  had  travelled  with  Anthony  Bacon,  and  after 
residing  in  Paris,  went  to  Flanders,  where  "  he  was  of  long  time 
dependent  on  Mr.  Norris. "  What  his  business  was  is  unknown; 
he  returned  to  Englaud  in  1583.  The  letter  from  Mr.  Doyly  to 
Francis  Bacon  shows  great  intimacy:  it  begins,  "  To  my  verye 
deare  friend,  Mr.  Doylie. " 

Then  there  was  Anthony  Bacon's  very  intimate  friend  Nicho- 
las Faunt,  at  one  time  Walsingham's  secretary,  a  gentleman  at- 
tached to  the  Puritan  party.  From  1580  to  1582  we  hud  him  trav- 
eling, with  no  ostensible  object,  through  France  and  Germany, 
spending  seven  months  between  Geneva  and  the  north  of  Italy, 
back  to  Paris,  and  home  to  London  in  1582.  He  is  described  as 
an  "  able  intelligencer, "  and  is  just  such  a  man  as  we  should 
expect  to  find  Bacon  making  good  use  of. 

The  young  Earl  of  Rutland  receives  in  1595  a  licence  to  pass 
over  the  seas,  and  (although  they  pass  for  awhile  as  the  writing 
of  Essex)  it  is  Bacon  who  writes  for  him  those  "  Letters  of 

l  Spedding,  Letters  and  Life,  ii.  9. 


222  FRANCIS  BACON 

Advice  "  which  were  published  anonymously  nearly  fifty  years 
later. 

Then  we  find  another  of  his  most  intimate  friends,  Tobie  Mat- 
thew, abroad,  wandering,  and  sometimes,  perhaps,  rather  myste- 
riously occupied.  Although,  to  Bacon's  deep  regret,  he  joined  the 
Roman  branch  of  the  Church,  the  correspondence  and  intimacy 
between  the  two  never  ceases,  and  we  think  that  it  will  transpire 
that  Sir  Tobie,  having  become  a  priest  in  the  Jesuit  college  at 
Douai,  continued  to  serve  Bacon  in  many  ways  by  aiding  in  the 
translation  and  dissemination  of  his  works,  and  especially  in  the 
production  of  the  Douai  Bible.  The  proceedings  and  writings 
of  other  travellers  and  writers,  or  supposed  authors,  of  Bacon's 
time,  should  be  examined  and  reviewed  in  this  connection.  They 
are  too  numerous  to  speak  of  here,  but  we  would  remind  the 
reader  of  his  life-long  friends,  the  Sidneys,  Herberts,  Nevilles, 
Howards,  Careys,  Sandys,  Cottons,  of  Lord  Arundel,  Sir  Tbos. 
Bodley,  Camden,  and  the  Shirleys;  of  John  Selden,  his  trusted 
friend  and  one  of  his  executors;  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  his  cousin; 
of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  whom,  during  his  imprisonment,  he  is 
known  to  have  visited  in  the  Tower,  whilst  he  was  engaged  in 
writing  The  History  of  the  World;  of  Ben  Jonson,  who,  ac- 
cording to  Drummond  of  Hawthornden,  wrote  from  under  Bacon's 
roof;  of  Sir  Kenelm  Digby,  Montaigne,  Florio,  Davies.  and  other 
foreigners,  as  well  as  Englishmen,  whose  names  and  works  are 
found  to  be  so  curiously  interwoven  with  the  lives  and  writings 
of  Anthony  and  Francis  Bacon. 

By  and  by  we  shall  have  to  return  to  the  subject  of  Bacon's 
friends  and  collaborators,  and  to  the  light  which  is  let  in  upon 
their  agency  through  the  large  collection  of  Anthony  Bacon's 
correspondence,  preserved  in  the  library  at  Lambeth  Palace. 
To  return  to  the  Rosicrucian  ordinances: 

Rule  5  shows  that  the  incognito  maintained  by  the  brethren 
was  to  extend,  not  merely  to  their  names  and  authorships,  but 
also  to  their  knowledge  and  menial  acquirements.  The  very 
fact  of  their  belonging  to  a  secret  society  was  to  be  concealed ; 
they  were  to  pass  through  the  world  as  ordinary  members  of 
society,  wearing  the  dress  of  the  country  in  which  they  lived, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  223 

and  doing  nothing  to  draw  upon  thern  the  special  notice  of 
others.  They  were  even  to  conceal  any  special  or  superior 
knowledge  which  they  might  have  acquired, *  actually  professing 
ignorance  when  interrogated,  the  only  science  of  which  they 
were  allowed  to  show  any  kuowledge  heing  "  the  science  of 
healing."  Perhaps  this  is  to  be  taken  partly  in  its  literal 
sense,  and  the  rule  may  have  been  made  with  the  benevolent 
intention  of  encouraging  the  study  of  medicine  and  surgery, 
which  Bacon  found  to  be  terribly  deficient ;  also,  this  permis- 
sion would  enable  the  experts  in  these  subjects  to  come  to 
the  rescue  on  emergency,  and  to  help  to  alleviate  the  bodily 
sufferings  of  their  fellow-creatures.  Still,  a  comparison  of  the 
Rosicrucian  works  obliges  us  to  see  that  it  was  to  remedy 
the  deformities  of  the  age,  to  heal  the  sores  and  cankers  of 
miserable  souls,  to  minister  to  the  mind  diseased,  that  the  Rosy 
Cross  brethren  were  really  labouring ;  and  this  fifth  rule  gives 
a  good  hint  as  to  the  reason  why  Bacon  did  not  "profess  to  be  a 
poet,1''  why  "  Burton  "  should  not  profess  to  be  a  theologian,  or 
Montaigne  "profess  to  be  a  philosopher." 

The  thought  arises :  What  could  be  the  object  of  this  rule  ? 
Even  if  it  were  desirable,  for  the  safety  of  the  author  of  danger- 
ous or  advanced  publications,  that  his  name  should  be  concealed, 
what  reason  could  there  be  for  obliging  the  man  himself  to  feign 
ignorance  of  subjects  which  he  had  specially  studied,  and  this, 
too,  in  days  when  the  revival  of  learning  was  a  subject  of  dis- 
cussion and  pride,  and  when  to  be  supposed  learned  was  a 
feather  in  a  man's  cap  ? 

There  seems  to  be  only  one  really  satisfactory  explanation  of 
this  and  other  rules,  namely,  that  the  so-called  authors  ivere  not 
the  true  authors  of  the  books  which  passed  under  their  names; 
that  at  the  best  they  were  translators,  revisors,  or  editors,  often 
mere  transcribers  and  media  for  publication.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances it  would  not  only  have  been  false,  had  they  claimed 
the  authorship  of  works  which  they  did  not  write,  but  it  would 
have  been  fatal  and  foolish  in  the  extreme  had  they  gone  about 
professing  to  talk  of  matters  which  they  did  not  understand.  < 

1  W"e  wonder  if  this  rule  is  still  in  force.    Experience  persuades  us  that  it  is. 


224  FRANCIS  BACON 

Rosicrucians  were  to  heal  the  sick,  gratis.  This  seems  to  mean 
that  their  work  was,  throughout,  to  be  a  labour  of  love.  Not 
for  the  sake  of  profit  or  of  fame  did  they  labour,  but  simply  for 
the  love  of  God,  and  of  man  created  in  God's  image.  Truly 
we  believe  that  for  this  end  the  brothers  Anthony  and  Francis 
lived  poor  for  many  years,  flinging  into  the  common  fund,  for 
publishing,  etc.,  every  penny  which  they  could  spare,  after 
defraying  the  most  necessary  expenses  for  themselves,  and  to 
keep  up  appearances.  We  equally  believe  that  their  work  has 
never  died  out,  but  has  been  taken  up  in  the  same  spirit  by 
numberless  individuals  and  societies — now  in  full  activity,  and 
recently  mightily  on  the  increase. 

Rule  17  would  account  for  the  extraordinary  impetus  given  in 
Bacon's  time  to  the  building  and  endowing  of  libraries,  schools, 
colleges,  hospitals,  almshouses,  theatres,  etc.  The  names  of  many 
such  "  fair  houses, "  munificently  endowed,  will  rise  to  the  minds  of 
all  who  are  well  acquainted  with  London  and  the  two  great  uni- 
versities. Let  the  reader  inquire  into  the  history  of  Gresham 
College,  Sion  College,  and  the  splendid  library  attached  to  it; 
Dulwich  College,  with  its  school,  almshouses,  and  library,  origi- 
nally intended  to  benefit  poor  actors;  the  Bancroft  Hospital  and 
many  other  similar  establishments;  the  library  and  other  build- 
ings at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge;  the  additions  to  the  Bodleian 
Library,  Oxford,  the  library  at  Lambeth  Palace,  and  the  great 
printing-houses  established  at  both  universities  —  he  will  find 
that  be  can  never  get  away  from  Bacon  and  his  friends.  Either 
we  find  Bacon  suggesting  the  need  or  en6ouraging  the  performers, 
or  inspecting  and  approving  the  work,  but  himself,  as  a  rule, 
unrecognised  in  public  documents;  so  with  the  societies.  Hispor- 
trait  alone  hangs  in  the  great  library  of  the  Royal  Society.  His 
friends  are  all  closely  associated  with  the  founding  of  the  Arun- 
del Society,  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  the  Camden  Society,  the 
Ray  Society,  and,  we  think,  with  the  Colleges  of  Surgeons  and 
Physicians;  but,  as  usual,  although  the  names  appear,  in  con- 
nection with  these  and  other  institutions,  of  his  intimate  friends, 
Bacon,  the  great  instigator  and  promoter  or  them  all,  remains  in 
the  background.     It  is  sufficient  to  read  of  such  institutions  that 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  225 

their  origin  is  "  veiled  "  or  "  obscure  "  for  us  to  feel  tolerably 
well  assured  that  behind  the  veil  is  Francis  Bacon. 

In  Rosicrucian  books  not  included  amongst  the  short  pieces 
in  MS.  published  by  Mr.  Waite,  it  is  shown  that  one 
great  work  of  the  society  was  the  publication  and  dissemination 
of  Bibles.  There  are,  says  Bacon,  two  books  of  God,  the  Book 
of  the  Bible,  expressing  His  mil,  and  the  Book  of  Nature,  setting 
forth  His  ivorks.  Neither  can  be  fully  understood  or  interpreted 
without  the  other,  and  men  should  be  made  equally  acquainted 
with  either.  The  revised  Bibles  of  1591, 1611,  and  1613  bear  wit- 
ness to  his  personal  efforts  in  this  direction.  The  commentary 
published  at  Geneva,  by  "John  Diodati,"  the  Messenger 
Given  by  God  (or  the  Messenger  of  God's  Gift,  which  Bacon 
says  was  the  gift  of  reason  with  speech),  should  be  examined  in 
connection  with  this  part  of  the  subject.  It  will  surely  transpire 
that  Francis  Bacon  played  no  minor  part  in  promoting  the 
knowledge  of  God's  first  book,  and  that  his  faithful  followers 
have  nobly  fulfilled  their  vows  and  duty  of  carrying  on  his  great 
work. 

For  the  Second  Book  of  God,  it  is  easier  at  once  to  make  plain 
the  enormous  services  which  he  rendered.  He  founded  the 
Royal  Society.  In  these  words  we  sum  up  the  fact  that  he 
planned  and  set  going  the  vast  machinery  which  has  produced 
such  wonderful  results  upon  science,  and  upon  almost  every 
department  of  human  knowledge. 

The  history  of  the  origin  of  the  Royal  Society,  which,  accord- 
ing to  its  chief  chroniclers,  is,  like  so  many  other  matters  con- 
nected with  Bacon,  "  veiled  in  obscurity, "  appears  to  be  this : 
A  few  choice  spirits  met  first  in  Bacon's  private  room,  then  at 
various  places  in  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  until  the  friends  formed 
themselves  into  a  small  philosophical  society,  under  Dr. 
Wilkins,  in  Wadham  College.  Meetings  were  sometimes  held  in 
taverns.  When  too  large  for  these,  they  adjourned  to  the 
parlour  of  Gresham  College.  Lord  Arundel  "  offered  the  Royal 
Society  an  asylum  in  his  own  palace  when  the  most  fierce  and 
merciless  of  the  elements  subverted  her  first  abodes,"  all  of 
which  is  printed  with  many  italics  and  very  large  type  in  the 

1  5 


228  FRA  NCIS  BA  CON 

and  that  eventually  these  books  were  to  find  their  way  into  the 
great  libraries  where  they  now  repose,  and  where  future  research 
will  oblige  them  to  yield  up  their  secret,  and  to  say  what 
hand  first  turned  their  pages,  whose  eyes  first  mined  into  them 
to  extract  the  precious  ore  so  long  buried  beneath  the  dust  of 
oblivion?  Where,  in  what  books,  do  we  find  this  gold  of  knowl- 
edge, seven  times  tried  in  the  crucible  of  poetic  philosophy, 
cast  into  living  lines,  and  hammered  upon  the  muses'  anvil  into 
the  "  well-tuned  and  true-filed  lines  "  which  are  not  of  an  age 
but  for  all  time? 

We  earnestly  exhort  young  and  able  scholars,  whose  lives  lie 
before  them,  to  follow  up  this  subject.  Think  of  the  new  worlds 
of  knowledge  that  remain  to  be  explored  and  conquered.  Who 
can  tell  the  contents  of  the  library  at  Eton,  in  which  Bacon 
took  such  a  lively  interest?  Who  has  ever  thoroughly  examined 
the  hoards  of  manuscripts  of  Bacon's  time  at  Lambeth  Palace, 
at  the  Record  Office,  at  Dulwich,  or  at  the  British  Museum? 
Baconians,  reading  with  modern  search-lights  rather  than  by  the 
dim  rays  shed  from  even  the  best  lamp  of  the  last  century,  can- 
not fail  in  future  to  perceive  many  things  which  escaped  the 
notice  of  previous  observers,  however  diligent. 

The  Selden  and  Pembroke  collections  of  books  at  the  Bodleian 
Library,  the  Cotton  Library  at  the  British  Museum,  the  libraries 
of  the  Royal  Society,  the  Antiquaries,  and  others  directly  con- 
nected with  Bacon,  the  theological  library  at  Sion  College, 
Gresham  College,  the  collection  of  Bacon's  works  in  the  Uni- 
versity Library,  Cambridge,  and  at  Trinity  College,  should  be 
examined,  and  every  collection,  public  or  private,  which  was 
commenced  or  much  enlarged  between  1580  and  1680,  should 
be  most  thoroughly  ransacked  with  a  special  eye  to  records, 
direct  and  indirect,  of  the  working  of  Bacon  and  his  friends, 
and  with  a  view  to  tracing  his  books.  It  is  probable  that  the 
latter  will  seldom  or  never  be  found  to  bear  his  name  or  signa- 
ture. Rather  we  should  expect,  in  accordance  with  Rosicrucian 
rules,  that  no  name,  but  only  a  motto,  an  enigmatic  inscription, 
or  the  initials  of  the  title  by  which  he  passed  amongst  the 
brethren,  would  be  found  in  these  books.    Yet  it  may  reason- 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  229 

ably  be  anticipated  that  some  at  least  are  "  noted  in  the  margin, " 
or  that  some  will  be  found  with  traces  of  marks  which  were 
guides  to  the  transcriber  or  amanuensis,  as  to  the  portions  which 
were  to  be  copied  for  future  use  in  Bacon's  collections  or  book 
of  "  commonplaces." 

One  word  more,  before  quitting  these  rules  of  the  Rosicru- 
cians.  The  eighteenth  rule  shows  that  on  the  death  of  a  brother 
nothing  should  be  done  which  should  reveal  his  connection  with 
the  fraternity.  His  tomb  was  to  be  either  without  epitaph  or 
the  inscription  must  be  ambiguous.  It  is  remarkable  how  many 
of  the  tombs  of  Bacon's  friends  and  of  the  distinguished  names 
of  his  time  come  under  one  or  the  other  of  these  descriptions. 
Some  of  these  will  be  noticed  in  their  proper  place.  Meanwhile, 
let  us  remark  that  there  seems  to  be  only  one  satisfactory  way  of 
accounting  for  this  apparently  unnecessary  rule.  The  explana- 
tion is  of  the  same  kind  as  that  given  with  regard  to  rule  5, 
which  prohibits  the  members  of  the  society  from  professing  a 
knowledge  which  they  did  not  possess. 

For  suppose  that  the  friends  of  deceased  Rosicrucians  had 
inscribed  upon  their  tombs  epitaphs  claiming  for  them  the  author- 
ship of  works  which  had  passed  current  as  their  writings,  but 
which  they  did  not  really  originate.  The  monuments  would,  in 
many  cases,  have  been  found  guilty  doing  positive  dishonour, 
not  only  to  the  sacred  place  in  which  they  were  erected,  but 
even  to  the  dead,  whose  memory  they  were  to  preserve,  for  they 
would  actually  declare  and  perpetuate  untruths,  or  at  the  best 
half-truths,  certain  in  the  end  to  be  discovered. 

It  is  rare  to  find  any  epitaph  by  way  of  eulogium  over  the 
grave  of  any  person  who  seems  to  have  collaborated  with  Bacon, 
or  to  have  been  accredited  with  the  authorship  of  any  work  which 
is  suspiciously  Baconian.  Rarer  still  do  we  find  on  such  tombs 
any  hint  that  the  so-called  poet  or  philosopher  ever  ivrote  any- 
thing. In  the  few  cases  where  this  is  asserted  or  suggested, 
there  are  reasons  for  believing,  or  actual  proof,  that  the  inscrip- 
tion, perhaps  the  monument  itself,  was  put  up  by  descendants  or 
admirers  some  years  after  the  death  of  the  individual  to  whom 
the  memorial  was  erected. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

THE  VITAL  SPIRITS  OF  NATURE. 

"  In  Nature's  infinite  book  of  socresy,  a  little  I  can  read." 

— Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

BACON  seems  to  have  been  strongly  influenced  and  stimu- 
lated by  the  study  of  the  works  of  the  celebrated  theos- 
ophist,  physician,  and  chemist,  Paracelsus,  whom  he  often  cites 
(not  always  with  approval),  aud  from  whose  doctrine  of  the 
"  Vital  Spirits  of  Nature  "  it  is  clear  that  he  must  have  derived 
the  original  germ  of  those  lovely  ideas  of  all-pervading  life 
which  reappear  throughout  his  writings,  and  preeminently  in  the 
Midsummer  Night's  Bream,  Macbeth,  and  The  Tempest. 

When  the  comet  or  new  star  suddenly  shone  forth  in  1572, 
in  the  constellation  of  Cassiopeia,  it  was  marked  as  a  por- 
tent or  harbinger  of  success  for  the  boy  Francis,  who  in  that  year 
went  up  for  the  first  time  to  Cambridge,  and  who  even  at  that 
early  age  was  manifesting  signs  of  future  greatness. 

Now  it  is  worthy  of  note  that  this  same  portent  was  observed 
by  Paracelsus  as  heralding  the  advent  of  "  the  artist  Elias, "  by 
whose  means  a  revelation  was  to  be  made  which  would  be  of  the 
highest  importance  to  the  human  race;  and,  again,  this  proph- 
ecy of  Paracelsus  was  accepted  by  the  Rosicrucians  as  true,  and 
as  finding  its  fulfilment  in  the  fact  that  in  the  year  1572  the 
wonderful  boy  did  make  his  appearance,  and  became  the  founder 
of  their  society. 

"  Paracelsus,  in  the  eighth  chapter  of  his  Treatise  on  Metals, 
gives  utterance  to  the  following  prognostication :  '  God  will  per- 
mit a  discovert/  of  the  highest  importance  to  be  made  ;  it  must  be 
hidden  till  the  advent  of  the  artist  Elias.' 

"  In  the  first  chapter  of  the  same  work  he  says:  'And  it  is 
true,  there  is  nothing  concealed  which  shall  not  be  discovered;  for 

(230) 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  231 

which  cause  a  marvelous  being  shall  come  after  me,  who  as  yet 
lives  not,  and  ivho  shall  reveal  many  things.'' 

"  These  passages 1  have  been  claimed  as  referring  to  the 
founder  of  the  Rosicrucian  order;  and  as  prophecies  of  this 
character  are  usually  the  outcome  of  a  general  desire  rather 
than  of  an  individual  inspiration,  they  are  interesting  evidence 
that  then,  as  now,  many  thoughtful  people  were  looking  for 
another  saviour  of  society.  At  the  beginning  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  'a  great  and  general  ieformation,'  says  Buhle, — 
'a  reformation  more  radical  and  more  directed  to  the  moral 
improvement  of  mankind  than  that  accomplished  by  Luther  — ■ 
was  believed  to  be  impending  over  the  human  race,  as  a  neces- 
sary forerunner  to  the  day  of  judgment.'  The  comet  of  1572 
was  declared  by  Paracelsus  to  be  '  the  sign  and  harbinger  of  the 
coming  revolution,1  and  it  will  readily  be  believed  that  his 
innumerable  disciples  would  welcome  a  secret  society  whose  vast 
claims  were  founded  on  the  philosophy  of  the  Master  whom 
they  also  venerated  as  a  supreme  factor  in  the  approaching 
reformation.  Paracelsus,  however,  had  recorded  a  still  more 
precise  prediction,  namely,  that  'soon  after  the  decease  of  the 
Emperor  Rudolph,  there  would  be  found  three  treasures  that  had 
never  been  revealed  before  that  time.''  " 

The  author  then  claims  that  these  are  the  three  great  Rosi- 
crucian documents  which  were  issued  at  the  time  appointed, 
and  which  he  has  recently  published  for  the  first  time  in  English, 
under  the  titles  of  "  The  Universal  Reformation  of  the  Whole 
Wide  World,"  "  Fama Fraternitatis ;  or,  a  Discovery  of  the  Fra- 
ternity of  the  Most  Laudable  Order  of  the  Rosy  Cross, "  and 
"  The  Confession  of  the  Rosicrucian  Fraternity,  addressed  to 
the  Learned  of  Europe. " 

It  is  easy  to  picture  to  ourselves  the  effect  of  these  prognosti- 
cations of  Paracelsus,  joined  to  the  fact  that  the  wonderful  star 
did  appear  at  the  very  time  when  the  youthful  rmilosopher  was 
himself  sent  forth  to  shine  as  a  prodigy  and  portent  —  it  is  easy 
to  imagine  the  impression  produced  upon  a  highly-strung,  sen- 
sitive boy  by  such  a  combination  of  circumstances,  to  which, 
doubtless,  his  admiring  friends  and  tutors  were  not  slow  in 
drawing  his  attention.    Years  afterward  we  find  him  making 


l  The  Real  History  of  the  Rosicrucians,  A.  E.  Waite,  pp.  34-5.    Published  by 
Eedway. 


232  FRANCIS  BACON 

"  experiments, "  "  touching  emission  of  immateriate  virtues  from 
the  minds  and  spirits  of  men,  either  by  affections,  or  by  imagi- 
nations, or  by  other  impressions."  He  speaks  of  the  force  of 
imagination,  and  of  the  means  to  exalt  it,  and  endeavours  to 
soive  this  problem :  Whether  a  man  constantly  and  strongly 
believing  that  such  a  thing  shall  be,  it  cloth  help  anything  to  the 
effecting  of  the  thing  itself.  He  decides  that  it  is  certain  that 
such  effects  result;  but  that  the  help  is,  for  one  man  lotvork  by 
means  of  another,  in  whom  he  may  create  belief,  and  not  by  him- 
self and  we  think  it  by  no  means  improbable  that  in  childhood 
his  own  imagination  was  thus  wrought  upon  and  kindled  into 
enthusiasm  concerning  the  work  to  which  he  was  called,  and 
which  he  regarded  as  sacred. 

Bacor  does  not,  in  his  scientific  works,  often  quote  Paracelsus; 
in  some  points  he  entirely  differs  from  him,  disapproving  of  his 
doctrines,  and  of  their  effects  upon  popular  belief.  He  protests 
against  the  excessive  freedom  in  the  interpretation  of  Scripture, 
which  either  explains  "  the  divinely-inspired  Scriptures  as 
human  writings,"  or  else  "  which  presupposes  such  perfection  in 
Scripture  that  all  philosophy  likewise  should  be  derived  from 
its  sources,  as  if  all  other  philosophy  were  something  profane 
and  heathen.  This  distemper  has  principally  grown  up  in  the 
school  of  Paracelsus  and  some  others,  but  the  beginnings  thereof 
came  from  the  rabbis  and  Cabalists. "  1  He  shows  the  error  of 
Paracelsus  and  his  school,  who,  "  seeking  a  place  for  its  three 
principles  even  in  the  temple  of  Juno,  that  is,  the  air,  established 
three  winds,  and  for  the  east  found  no  place. "  2  He  reproves 
the  intemperate  extremes  of  these  "  disciples  of  pretended  nat- 
ural magic, "  who  exalted  "  fascination, "  or  "  the  power  and  ap- 
prehension of  the  imagination,  to  be  much  one  with  the  power 
of  miracle-working  faith."3  He  laughs  at  the  "prodigious 
follies"  of  those  who  aim  at  making  Paracelsus'  pigmies. 4 
"  Vast  and  bottomless  follies  which  ascribe  to  imagination  ex- 
alted the  power  of  wonder-working  faith,  5  fancies  as  wild  as 

l  De  Aug.  ix.  2  Hist,  of  Winds.  3  De  Aug.  iv.  (It  is  curious  to  see  how 
fashions  and  delusions  return.  Note  the  present  "faith-healing"  fancies.)  *  Nat. 
Hist.  i.  99,  and  Hist.  Dense  and  Rare,    s  Nat.  Hist.  i.  1, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  233 

that  by  which  Paracelsus  was  to  have  it  that  nutrition  is 
caused  only  by  separation,  and  that  in  bread  and  meat  lie-  eye, 
nose,  brain,  liver,  and  in  the  moisture  of  the  ground  root,  leaf, 
and  flower."1  Neither  does  he  share  the  "  idle  notion  of  Para- 
celsus that  there  are  parts  and  correspondences  between  man's 
body  and  all  the  species  of  stars,  plants,  and  minerals;  misap- 
plying the  emblem  of  man  as  a  microcosm  or  epitome  of  the 
world  in  support  of  this  fancy  of  theirs."  2 

Bacon  differed  on  many  points  from  Paracelsus,  and,  as  we 
see,  did  not  wish  to  be  supposed  a  disciple  of  his;  yet  he  studied 
very  closely  all  that  he  had  to  say,  and  quoted  him  by  name  as 
if  to  lead  others  to  the  consideration  of  his  works,  from  which 
he  drew  so  much,  although,  perhaps,  not  of  the  kind,  or  after 
the  fashion,  which  the  alchemist  philosopher  might  have  desired 
and  expected.  The  notion  which  is  prominent  in  the  writings 
of  Paracelsus  concerning  the  "  Vital  Spirits  of  Nature"  fell  in 
perfectly  with  Bacon's  own  ideas,  and  this  poetical  and  beautiful 
fancy  pervades  his  writings  to  such  a  degree  as  to  be  insepar- 
able from  them.  The  method  in  which  he  handles  the  subject 
is  also  so  peculiar  as  to  form  another  touchstone  by  which  the 
authorship  of  certain  works  may  be  tested,  since  the  thought  of 
any  two  men,  forming  the  same  fanciful  theories,  and  deriving 
from  them  the  same  subtle  thoughts  and  conclusions,  is  too 
improbable  to  be  seriously  entertained. 

In  the  preface  to  the  History  of  Life  and  Death,  the  editor 
says: 

"  The  idea  on  which  Bacon's  idea  of  longevity  is  founded, 
namely,  that  the  principle  of  life  resides  in  a  subtle  fluid  or 
spirit,  which  permeates  the  tangible  parts  of  the  organisation  of 
plants  and  animals,  seems  to  be  coeval  with  the  first  origin  of 
speculative  physiology.  Bacon  was  one  of  those  by  whom  this 
idea  was  extended  from  organised  to  inorganised  bodies.  In  all 
substances,  according  to  him,  resides  a  portion  of  spirit  which 
manifests  itself  only  in  its  operations,  being  altogether  intangi- 
ble and  without  weight.  This  doctrine  appeared  to  be  to  him 
of  most  certain  truth,  but  he  has  nowhere  stated  the  grounds  of 
his  conviction,  nor  even  indicated  the  kind  of  evidence  by  which 

. . j-  : I 

1  Jnov.  Org.  i.  48.    2  De  Aug.  iv.  2, 


23-1  FRANCIS  BACON 

the  existence  of  the  spiritus  is  to  be  established.  In  living  bod- 
ies he  conceived  that  two  kinds  of  spirits  exist:  a  crude  or  mor- 
tuary spirit,  such  as  is  present  in  other  substances,  and  the 
animal  or  vital  spirit,  to  wnich  the  phenomena  of  life  are  to  be 
referred.  To  keep  this  vital  spirit,  the  wine  of  life,  from  oozing 
away  ought  to  be  the  aim  of  the  physician  who  attempts  to  in- 
crease the  number  of  our  few  and  evil  days."  i 

The  writer  is  here  treating  chiefly  of  the  body,  but  wherever 
Bacon  speaks  of  inorganic  matter,  or  of  organised  forms  of 
plants,  etc.,  he  uses  language  which  expresses  that  they  are 
more  or  less  living  and  sentient,  having  vital  spirits  which  act 
somewhat  as  in  the  bodies  of  living  creatures.  Doubtless  his 
poetical  nature  led  him  always  into  metaphoric  language ;  his 
"  nimbleness  to  perceive  analogies, "  his  sense  of  beauty  and  of 
the  wonderful  harmony  in  which  the  world  was  created  tended 
to  make  him  speak  and  write  thus;  but  a  deeper  feeling  still 
moved  him  continually  to  connect  the  "  crude,"  "  gross,"  and 
"  earthy  "  with  the  "  rare, "  "  airy  and  flamy  "  of  the  sensitive  soul. 
He  was  forever  mentally  endeavouring  to  bring  about  a  union  or 
marriage  between  things  natural  and  things  spiritual,  to  "  min- 
gle earth  with  heaven. "  "  I  am  labouring  with  all  my  might  to 
make  the  mind  of  man  a  match  for  the  nature  of  things. "  2 

It  is,  therefore,  to  be  expected,  as  a  single  outcome  of  his 
cogitations  and  philosophy,  that  we  shall  read  of  "  Motion 
which  invites  an  excited  body; "  "  Materials  which  refuse  to  be 
heated;  "  Master  spirits  which,  in  any  body,  curb,  tame,  subdue, 
and  regulate  other  parts,"  etc.  "  Bodies  which  delight  in  mo- 
tion and  enjoy  their  own  nature, "  and  which,  in  spontaneous 
rotation,  "follow  themselves,  and  court,  so  to  speak,  their  own 
embraces."  Other  "  bodies  abhor  motion,  and  remain  at  rest. " 
Others  "  move  by  the  shortest  path,  to  consort  with  bodies  of  their 
own  nature."  "  By  this  appetite  for  motion  all  bodies  of  con- 
siderable density  abhor  motion;  indeed,  the  desire  of  not  moving 
is  the  only  appetite  they  have ;  and  though,  in  countless  ways, 
they  be  enticed  and  challenged  to  motion,  they  yet,  as  far  as  they 

l  Pref.  Hist.  Vltce  et  Mortis,  by  Robert  Leslie  Ellis.  Spedding,  Bacon's  Works, 
ii.  [ .  91. 

f  Do  Aug.  v.  2. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  235 

can,  maintain  their  proper  nature;  and  if  compelled  to  move, 
they,  nevertheless,  seem  always  intent  on  recovering  their  state 
of  rest,  and  moving  no  more.  While  thus  engaged,  indeed,  they 
show  themselves  active,  and  struggle  for  it  with  agility  and  swift- 
ness enough,  as  weary  and  impatient  of  all  delay.  .  .  .  Of  the  mo- 
tions I  have  set  forth,  some  are  invincible,  some  are  stronger  than 
others,  fettering,  curbing,  arranging  them;  some  carry  further 
thanothers;  some  outstrip  others  in  speed;  somecherish,  strengthen, 
enlarge,  and  accelerate  others. "  * 

How  lifelike  all  this  is !  Surely,  it  might  be  supposed  that  we 
were  reading  of  two-legged  or  four-legged  creatures  instead  of 
particles  of  matter.  In  the  same  vein  the  philosopher-poet  tells 
of  opiates  and  kindred  medicaments,  which  put  the  spirits  utterly 
to  flight  by  their  malignant  and  hostile  nature.^  How,  if  taken 
internally,  their  fumes,  ascending  to  the  head,  disperse  in  all 
directions  the  spirits  contained  in  the  ventricles  of  the  brain,  and 
these  spirits,  thus  withdrawing  themselves,  and  unable  to  escape 
into  any  other  part,  are  .  .  .  sometimes  utterly  choked  and  extin- 
guished.   Rosewater,  on  the  other  hand,  "  cherishes  »  the  spirits. 

^Ye  read,  too,  of  Continuance  as  the,  steward  or  almoner  of 
Nature;  3  of  Heat  and  Cold  as  the  hands  by  which  she  works. 
Cold  as  an  enemy  to  growth,  and  bad  air  an  enemy  to  health;  of 
the  west  wind  friendly  to  plants,  and  of  strife  and  friendship  in 
nature.    Bodies,  'at  the  touch  of  a  body  that  is  friendly,  .  .  . 


1  Nov.  Or",  i.  47.  Compare  with  the  preceding  sentences  "Passion  invites  me." 
Twelfth  Night,  ii.  2.  "A  spirit  too  delicate  .  .  .  refusing  [the  foul  witch's] 
grand  hests."  Temp.  i.  2.  "All  hail,  great  master:1  lb.  "  Her  nwre  potent 
ministers,  lb.  "My  potent  master."  lb.  iv.  1.  "  Curb  this  cruel  devil  of  his 
will  "  Her.  Ven.  iv.  1,  and  Ham.  iii.  4.  "Tame  the  savage  spirit  of  wild  war. 
John  v  2.  "  The  delighted  spirit  to  bathe  in  fiery  floods."  Meas.  for  Meas.  111. 1. 
'■  More  spirit  chased  than  enjoyed."  Mer.  Ven.  if.  fi.  "The  air  smells  vomnghi 
here"  Macb.i.6.  "Nature  doth  abhor  to  make  his  bed,"  etc.  Cymh.iv.  4.  "Wight's 
swift  dragons  cut  clouds  full  fast  .  .  .  damned  spirits,  all  .  .  .  all  gone,  and  must 
for  aye  consort  with  black-browed  night."  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  111.  2.,  etc. 

2  See  Nov.  Org.  ii.  48,  50.  Hist.  Winds,  Qualities,  27.  Hist.  Heavy  and  Light, 
Cog.  Naturae,  vi.,  etc. 

3  "  The  gifts  of  Nature."  Twelfth  Night,  i.  3;  Ham.  i.  5,  etc.  "  Frugal  na- 
ture; "  iv  i.  "Our  foster  nurse  of  nature  is  repose"  "Poison  and  treason 
are  the  hands  of  sin."  Pericles,  i.  1.  "  Care's  an  enemy  to  life."  Twelfth  Night, 
i,  2.     "  Nature  is  thy  friend."  Merry  Wives,  iii.  3. 


236  FRANCIS  BACON 

open  themselves;  but,  at  the  touch  of  an  unfriendly  body,  they 
shrink  up."  * 

In  the  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  (which,  as  lias  been  said,  seems 
to  be  the  sweepings  of  Bacon's  note-books  on  all  subjects  con- 
nected with  the  Doctrine  of  the  Union  of  Mind  and  Body)  all 
these  ideas  are  reproduced  and  expanded. 

The  chapter  containing  the  passages  of  the  Digression  of 
Spirits  is  particularly  interesting  and  instructive,  forming,  as  it 
does,  a  connecting  link  between  the  science  and  the  poetry  of 
the  plays.  Who  that  reads  such  sentences  as  the  following, 
which  catch  the  eye  as  it  travels  hastily  down  those  pages,  but 
must  be  reminded  of  the  scenes  and  lines  in  the  Tempest,  Mac- 
beth, Lear,  and  the  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  and  other  plays, 
which  are  familiar  in  our  mouths  as  household  words? 

"  Fiery  spirits2' are  such  as  commonly  work  by  blazing-stars, 
fire-drakes, 3  or  ignis  fatui;  4  which  lead  men  oft  influmina  aut 
prcecipitia,  saith  Bodine,  lib.  2,  Theat.  Naturae,  fol.  221;  .  .  .  like- 
wise they  counterfeit  suns  and  moons,5  stars  oftentimes,  and  sit 
on  ship-masts,  ...  or  which  never  appear,  saith  Cardan,  but 
they  signify  some  mischief  or  other  to  come  unto  men,  though 
some  again  will  have  them  to  pretend  good  and  victory;  .  .  .  and 
they  do  likely  come  after  a  sea-storm.  .  .  . 

"  Aerial  spirits,  or  devils,  are  such  as  keep  quarter  most 
part  in  the  air,  cause  many  tempests,  thunder  and  lightnings, 
tear  oaks,  fire  steeples,  houses,  strike  men 6  and  beasts,  make  it 
rain  stones,1  .  .  .  counterfeit  armies  in  the  air,  strange  noises, 

l  "  A  south  wind  friendly."  Winter's  Tale,  v.  i.  "  Friendly  drop  "  (of  poison). 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  v.  3.  "  A  huge  infectious  troop  of  pale  distemperatures  and 
foes  to  life."  —  M.  M.  v.  1. 

2Comp.  3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  1,  21-38,  and  with  "  That  fire-drake  did  I  hit.  .  .  . 
The  devil  was  amongst  thern."' — Henry  VIII.  v.  3. 

3  Fierce,  fiery  warriors  fight  upon  the  clouds.  The  heavens  blaze  forth  the  death 
of  princes. — Jul.  Cces.  ii.  2. 

4  The  willo'  the  wisp.  Loh.  "Thou  Lob  of  Spirits"  of  Puck. — M.  N.  D.  ii.  1. 
See  Puck's  behaviour,  ib.  iii.  1.  "  Sometimes  a  horse  I'll  be ;  .  .  .  sometime  a 

fire."    See  also  the  Fool  of  the  Walkinq  Fire  and  Flibbertigibbet,  Lear,  iii.  2,  and 
Ariel's  tricks  upon  Stephano  and  his  fellows  in  The  Tempest,  iv.  i. 

5  Comp.  3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  1,  25-31. 

6  Compare  Prospero's  account  of  his  own  performances  in  his  speech  to  the 
elves  (Temp.  v.  1),  and  Macb.  iv.  1,  44-61. 

7  "The  gods  throw  stones  of  sulphur." — Cymb.  v.  5.  "Are  there  no  stones 
in  heaven?" — Oth.  v.  2.     "Let  the  sky  rain  potatoes," — Mer.  Wiv.  v.  5, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  237 

swords  letc  ...  They  cause  whirlwinds  on  a  sudden,  and  tem- 
pestuous storms,  which,  though  our  meteorologists  generally  refer 
to  natural  causes,  yet  I  am  of  Bodine's  mind  (lheat.  Nat.  1.3 
then  are  more  often  caused  by  those  aerial  devds?for  Tempestahbus 
se  inqerunt,  saith  Rich.  Argentine,  as  when  a  desperate  man 
makes  away  with  himself,  which  by  hanging  or  drowning  they 
fVeauentlv  do.3  .  .  .  These  can  corrupt  the  air  and  cause 
plagues,  sickness,  storms,  shipwrecks,  fires,  inundations" 
Such  devils  or  aerial  spirits  can  "  sell  winds  to  manners*  and 
cause  tempests;  they  consort  with  witches  and  serve  magicians* 
.  .  .  Cardan's  father  had  one  of  them  (as  he  is  not  ashamed  to 
relate),  an  aerial  devil,  bound  to  him  for  twenty-eight  years. 

Many  other  instances  are  given  of  men  who  employed  such 
familiar  spirits ;  Paracelsus  being  suppose!  to  have  one  confined 
to  his  sword  pummel,  others  who  wore  them  in  rings. 

"  Water-devils  are  those  naiads  or  water-nymphs  conversant 
with  waters  and  rivers.  6  The  water  (as  Paracelsus  thinks)  is 
their  chaos,  wherein  tbey  live;  some  call  them  fairies,  and  say 
that  Habundia  is  their  queen;  these  cause  inundations,  many 
times  shipwrecks,  and  deceive  men  divers  ways,  as  succuba,  or 
otherwise,  appearing  most  part  (saith  Tritemius)  in  women  s 
shape.?  Paracelsus  bath  several  stories  of  them  that  have  lived 
and  been  married  to  mortal  men,  and  so  continued  for  certain 
years  with  them;  and  after,  upon  some  dislike,  have  forsaken 
tbem.s  such  a  one  as  iEgaria,  .  .  .  Diana,  Ceres,  etc.  Olaus 
Magnus  hath  a  narration  of  a  King  of  Sweden,  that,  having 
iost  his  company  one  day,  as  he  was  hunting,  met  with  these 
water-nymphs,  or  fairies,  and  was  feasted  by  them;  and  Hector 
Boethms  tells  of  Macbeth  and  Banquo,  two  Scottish  lords,  that, 

1  See  of  the  portents  before  the  murdar  of  Caesar.  "  The  noise  of  battle 
hurtled  in  the  air." — Jul.  Cas.  ii.  2. 

2  "  Awav  !  the  foal  fiend  follows  me !  .  .  .  Who  gives  anything  to  poor  Torn  1 
whom  the  foul  fiend  hath  led  through  fire  and  through  flame,  through  ford  and 
whirlpool, 'over  bog  and  quagmire.  .  .  .  Bless  thee  from  whirlwinds,  star-blastmg, 
and  taking." — Lear,  iii.  4. 

3  See  how  the  murder  of  Macbeth  is  accompanied  and  foreshadowed  by 
tempests  (Macb.  i.  1).  This  has  been  well  accentuated  in  Mr.  Irving s  repro- 
duction of  the  play. 

4  Note  the  witches  and  the  mariners  (Macb.  i.  3),  and  especially  the  giving 
of  a  wind.  5  Ariel  and  Prospero. 

6  Prospero  summons  them,  through  Ariel,  the  most  perfect  impersonation  of 
a  Paracelsian  nymph. — Tempest,  v.  1. 

7  lb.  i.  2.    Macb.  i.  3. 

8  Such  is  Undine  in  the  lovely  story  of  La  Motte-Fouque. 


238  FRANCIS  BACON 

as  they  were  wandering  in  the  woods,  had  their  fortunes  told 
them  by  three  strange  women. 

"  Terrestrial  devils  are  those  Lares,  Genii,  Fauns,  Satyrs, 
Wood- Nymphs,  Foliots,  Fairies,  l  Rouin  Good-fellows,  -  etc., 
which,  as  they  are  most  conversant  with  men,  so  they  do  them 
most  harm.  Some  think  it  was  they  alone  that  kept  the  heathen 
people  in  awe  of  old,  and  had  so  many  idols  and  temples  erected 
to  them.  Of  this  range  was  Dagon  among  the  Philistines,  Bel 
among  the  Babylonians,  Astarte  among  the  Sidonians,  Baal 
among  the  Samaritans,  Isis  and  Osiris  among  the  Egyptians, 
etc.  Some  put  our  fairies  into  this  rank,  which  have  been  in 
former  times  adored  with  much  superstition,  with  sweeping  their 
houses,  and  setting  of  a  pail  of  clear  water,  good  victuals,  and  the 
like,  and  then  they  should  not  be  pinched?  but  find  money  in  their 
shoes,  4  and  be  fortunate  in  their  enterprises.  5  These  are  they 
that  dance  on  heaths  and  greens?  as  Lavater  thinks  with  Triten- 
nius,  and,  as  Olaus  Magnus  adds,  leaving  that  green  circle'1  which 
we  commonly  find  in  plain  fields,  which  others  hold  to  proceed 
from  a  meteor  falling,  or  some  accidental  rankness  of  the  ground, 
so  nature  sports  herself.  .  .  .  Paracelsus  reckons  up  many  places 
in  Germany  where  they  do  usually  walk  in  little  coats,  some 
two  feet  long.  A  bigger  kind  of  them  is  called  with  us  hobgob- 
lins and  Robin  Goodfellows,  that  would,  in  those  superstitious 
times,  grind  corn  for  a  mess  of  milk,  cut  tvood,  or  do  any  manner 
oj  drudgery  work.  .  .  .  Cardan  holds, 8  they  will  make  strange 
noises  in  the  night,  howl  sometimes  pitifully,  and  then  laugh 
again,  cause  great  flame  and  sudden  lights,  fling  stones,  rattle 

1  See  M.  N.  D.  ii.  1.  The  fairies  of  Shakespeare  are  always  Bacon's  vital 
spirits  of  nature,  and  this  soerns  to  be  now  recognized.  The  sprites  and  fairies 
in  Mr.  Benson's  recent  representation  of  the  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  were 
properly  attired  as  flowers,  insects,  bullrushes,  river  weeds,  etc.,  and  not.  as 
formerly,  in  ballet  skirts  and  satin  shoes.  In  Macbeth  Mr.  Erving  not  only  de- 
parts from  the  old  idea  of  witches  as  hags  in  red  cloaks  and  poke  bonnets,  but 
the  witches  are  distinctly  arrayed  to  imitate  the  winds,  and  a  scene  in  dumb 
show  is  interpolated  where  these  wind-witches  rilled  the  sails  which  are  to 
carry  Macduff  to  England. 

2  M.  N.  D.  ii.  1. 

3  "Let  the  supposed  fairies  pinch  him."  Mer.  Wiv.  iv.  4  "Pinch  the  maids 
blue;  .  .  .  pinch  them,  arms  and  legs  and  backs;  .  .  .  still  pinch  him,  fairies,  pinch 
l)im  to  your  time."    lb.  v.  5,  and  Temp.  i.  2,  328,  and  iv.  1,  '233. 

4  "It  was  told  me  I  should  be  rich  by  the  fairies."     W.  T.  iii.  3. 

5  "Fairies  and  gods  prosper  it  with  thee."    Lear.  iv.  6. 

6  "Dance  our  ringlets  to  the  whistling  winds."    M.  N.  D.  ii.  2. 

7  "You  demi-puppets,  that  by  moonshine  do  the  sour-green  ringlets  male, 
whereof    the  sheep  biles." — Temp.  v.  1. 

8  See  of  Ariel,  who  makes  music  in  the  air.  Twanging  instruments,  voices 
humming,  or  howling  and  thunder. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  239 

chains,  shave  men,  open  doors  and  shut  them,  fling  doivn  plat- 
ters, stools,  chests, l  sometimes  appear  in  likeness  of  hares,  crows, 
black  dogs,  2  etc.,  of  which  read  Pit.  Thyrsus  the  Jesuit,  in  his 
tract,  de  locis  infestis,  i.  4,  who  will  have  them  to  be  devils,  or 
the  souls  of  damned  men  that  seek  revenge,  or  else  souls  out  of 
purgatory  that  seek  ease.  .  .  .  These  spirits  often  foretell  men's 
deaths  by  several  signs,  as  knockings,  groanings, 3  etc.  Near 
Rnpes  Nova,  in  Finland,  in  the  Kingdom  of  Sweden,  there  is  a 
lake  in  which,  before  the  Governor  of  the  Castle  dies,  a  spec- 
trum, in  the  habit  of  Arion  with  his  harp,  appears  and  makes 
excellent  music.  .  .  .  Many  families  in  Europe  are  so  put  in 
mind  of  their  last  by  such  predictions,  and  many  men  are  fore- 
warned, (if  we  may  believe  Paracelsus),  by  familiar  spirits  in  di- 
vers shapes,  as  cocks,  crows,  owls,  which  often  hover  about  sick 
men 's chambers,  .  .  .  forthat(asBernardinusdeBustisthinketh) 
God  permits  the  devil  to  appear  in  the  form  of  crows,  and  such- 
like creatures,  to  scare  such  as  live  wickedly  here  on  earth." 

Farther  on,  when  discoursing  of  idleness  as  a  cause  of  melan- 
choly, the  Anatomist  describes  the  men  who  allow  themselves  to 
become  a  prey  to  vain  and  fantastical  contemplation,  as  unable 
"■  to  go  about  their  necessary  business,  or  to  stave  off  and  extri-' 
cate  themselves,"  but  as  "ever  musing,  melaucholisiug,  and 
carried  along  as  he  that  is  led  round  about  a  heath  with  Puck  in 
the  night,  they  run  earnestly  on  in  this  labyrinth  of  anxious  and 
solicitous  meditation." 

Such  notes  and  studies  as  these  appear  most  conspicuously  iu 
the  Shakespeare  and  other  plays  of  Bacon.  It  is  hard  to  believe 
that  he  could  have  created  the  fairy  world  of  the  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream  without  some  such  preparation  as  is  recorded  in 
the  scientific  notes.  Let  us  give  a  few  minutes'  consideration  to 
this  play,  with  the  view  of  showing  how  dry  facts,  business- 
like notes,  and  commonplace   observation  were  distilled  into 

1  See  how  this  is  illustrated  in  M.  N.  D.  ii.  1.    Puck  takes  the  form  of  a  stool. 

2  "In  likeness  of  a,  filly  foal."     M.  N.  D.  ii.  1. 

"Sometime  a  horse  I'll  be,  sometimes  a  hound, 
A  hog,  a  headless  bear,  sometime  a  fire; 
And  neigh,  and  bark,  and  grunt,  and  roar,  and  burn, 
Like  horse,  hound,  hog,  bear,  and  fire,  at  every  turn." 

M.  N.  D.  iii.  I. 

3  Compare  the  sounds,  etc.,  before  the  deaths  of  Duncan,  Macbeth,  and  Julius 
Caesar. 

4  '-It  was  the  owl  that  shrieked,  that  fearful  bellman."    Macb.  ii  3. 


238  FRANCIS  BACON 

as  they  were  wandering  in  the  woods,  had  their  fortunes  told 
them  by  three  strange  women. 

"  Terrestrial  devils  are  those  Lares,  Genii,  Fauns,  Satyrs, 
Wood-Nymphs,  Foliots,  Fairies,  1  Kouin  Good-fellows,  -  etc., 
which,  as  they  are  most  conversant  with  men,  so  they  do  them 
most  harm.  Some  think  it  was  they  alone  that  kept  the  heathen 
people  in  awe  of  old,  and  had  so  many  idols  and  temples  erected 
to  them.  Of  this  range  was  Dagon  among  the  Philistines,  Bel 
among  the  Babylonians,  Astarte  among  the  Sidonians,  Baal 
among  the  Samaritans,  Isis  and  Osiris  among  the  Egyptians, 
etc.  Some  put  our  fairies  into  this  rank,  which  have  been  in 
former  times  adored  with  much  superstition,  with  sweeping  their 
houses,  and  setting  of  a  pail  of  clear  water,  good  victuals,  and  the 
like,  and  then  they  should  not  be  pinched?  but  find  money  in  their 
shoes,  4  and  be  fortunate  in  their  enterprises.  5  These  are  they 
that  dance  on  heaths  and  greens,6  as  Lavater  thinks  with  Triteh- 
nius,  and,  as Olaus  Magnus  adds,  leaving  that  green  circle1  which 
we  commonly  find  in  plain  fields,  which  others  hold  to  proceed 
from  a  meteor  falling,  or  some  accidental  rankness  of  the  ground, 
so  nature  sports  herself.  .  .  .  Paracelsus  reckons  up  many  places 
in  Germany  where  they  do  usually  walk  in  little  coats,  some 
two  feet  long.  A  bigger  kind  of  them  is  called  with  us  hobgob- 
lins and  Robin  Goodfellows,  that  would,  in  those  superstitious 
times,  grind  corn  for  a  mess  of  milk,  cut  tvood,  or  do  any  manner 
of  drudgery  work.  .  .  .  Cardan  holds, 8  they  will  make  strange 
noises  in  the  night,  howl  sometimes  pitifully,  and  then  laugh 
again,  cause  great  flame  and  sudden  lights,  fling  stones,  rattle 

1  See  31.  N.  D.  ii.  1.  The  fairies  of  Shakespeare  are  always  Bacon's  vital 
spirits  of  nature,  and  this  soems  to  be  now  recognized.  The  sprites  and  fairies 
in  Mr.  Benson's  recent  representation  of  the  Midsummer  Nights  Dream  were 
properly  attired  as  flowers,  insects,  bullrushes,  river  weeds,  etc.,  and  not.  as 
formerly,  in  ballet  skirts  and  satin  shoes.  In  Macbeth  Mr.  Irving  not  only  de- 
parts from  the  old  idea  of  witches  as  hags  in  red  cloaks  and  poke  bonnets,  but 
the  witches  are  distinctly  arrayed  to  imitate  the  winds,  and  a  scene  in  dumb 
show  is  interpolated  where  these  wind-witches  tilled  the  sails  which  are  to 
carry  Macduff  to  England. 

2  M.N.  D.  ii.  1. 

3  "Let  the  supposed  fairies  pinch  him."  Mer.  Wiv.  iv.  4  "Pinch  the  maids 
blue;  .  .  .  pinch  them,  arms  and  legs  and  backs;  .  .  .  still  pinch  him,  fairies,  pinch 
liiin  to  your  time."    lb.  v.  5,  and  Temp.  i.  2,  328,  and  iv.  1,  233. 

4  "It  was  told  me  I  should  be  rich  by  the  fairies."     W.  T.  iii.  3. 

5  "Fairies  and  gods  prosper  it  with  thee."    Lear.  iv.  6. 

6  "Dance  our  ringlets  to  the  whistling  winds."    M.  N.  D.  ii.  2. 

7  "You  demi-puppets,  that  by  moonshine  do  the  sour-green  ringlets  make, 
whereof    the  sheep  bites." — Temp.  v.  1. 

8  See  of  Ariel,  who  makes  music  in  the  air.  Twanging  instruments,  voices 
humming,  or  howling  and  thunder. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  239 

chains,  shave  men,  open  doors  and  shut  them,  fling  down  plat- 
ters, stools,  chests, x  sometimes  appear  in  likeness  of  hares,  crows, 
black  dogs,  2  etc.,  of  which  read  Pit.  Thyraeus  the  Jesuit,  in  his 
tract,  de  locis  infestis,  i.  4,  who  will  have  them  to  be  devils,  or 
the  souls  of  damned  men  that  seek  revenge,  or  else  souls  out  of 
purgatory  that  seek  ease.  .  .  .  These  spirits  ofteu  foretell  men's 
deaths  by  several  signs,  as  knockings,  groanings,  3  etc.  Near 
Rapes  Nova,  in  Finland,  in  the  Kingdom  of  Sweden,  there  is  a 
lake  in  which,  before  the  Governor  of  the  Castle  dies,  a  spec- 
trum, in  the  habit  of  Arion  with  his  harp,  appears  and  makes 
excellent  music.  .  .  .  Many  families  in  Europe  are  so  put  in 
mind  of  their  last  by  such  predictions,  and  many  men  are  fore- 
warned, (if  we  may  believe  Paracelsus),  by  familiar  spirits  in  di- 
vers shapes,  as  cocks,  crows,  owls,  which  often  hover  about  sick 
men's  chambers,  .  .  .  forthat(asBernardinusdeBustisthinketh) 
God  permits  the  devil  to  appear  in  the  form  of  crows,  and  such- 
like creatures,  to  scare  such  as  live  wickedly  here  on  earth." 

Farther  on,  when  discoursing  of  idleness  as  a  cause  of  melan- 
choly, the  Anatomist  describes  the  men  who  allow  themselves  to 
become  a  prey  to  vain  and  fantastical  contemplation,  as  unable 
"  to  go  about  their  necessary  business,  or  to  stave  off  and  extri-' 
cate  themselves,"  but  as  "  ever  musing,  melancholising,  and 
carried  along  as  he  that  is  led  round  about  a  heath  ivith  Puck  in 
the  night,  they  run  earnestly  on  in  this  labyrinth  of  anxious  and 
solicitous  meditation." 

Such  notes  and  studies  as  these  appear  most  conspicuously  in 
the  Shakespeare  and  other  plays  of  Bacon.  It  is  hard  to  believe 
that  he  could  have  created  the  fairy  world  of  the  Midsummer 
Nighfs  Dream  without  some  such  preparation  as  is  recorded  in 
the  scientific  notes.  Let  us  give  a  few  minutes'  consideration  to 
this  play,  with  the  view  of  showing  how  dry  facts,  business- 
like notes,  and  commonplace   observation  were  distilled  into 

1  See  how  this  is  illustrated  in  M.  If.  D.  ii.  1.    Puck  takes  the  form  of  a  stool. 

2  "//i,  likeness  ofn  filly  foal."     M.  N.  D.  ii.  1. 

"Sometime  a  horse  I'll  be,  sometimes  a  hound, 
A  hog,  a  headless  bear,  sometime  a  fire; 
And  neigh,  and  bark,  and  grunt,  and  roar,  and  burn, 
Like  horse,  hound,  hog,  bear,  and  fire,  at  every  turn." 

M.  N.  D.  iii.  1. 

3  Compare  the  sounds,  etc.,  before  the  deaths  of  Duncan,  Macbeth,  and  Julius 
Csesar. 

4  '-It  was  the  owl  that  shrieked,  that  fearful  bellman."    Mad.  ii  3. 


240  FRANCIS  BACON 

poetry  in  that  wonderful  mind  of  which  John  Beaumont  said 
mat  it  was  ahle  "  to  lend  a  charm  to  the  greatest  as  well  as  to 
the  meanest  of  matters.'' 1 

To  begin  with  Puck's  well-known  speech.  Oberon  desires  him 
to  fetch  a  certain  herb  and  to  return  "  ere  Leviathan  can  swim 
a  league. "    Puck  answers: 

"  I'll  put  a  girdle  round  about  the  earth 
In  forty  minutes." 

Bacon,  in  studying  the  winds,  made  many  inquiries  as  to  the 
parts  of  the  globe  in  which  the  winds  chiefly  occur,  and  where 
they  blow  with  the  greatest  swiftness.  He  finds  this  to  be  the 
case  at  the  tropics.  "  In  Peru,  and  divers  parts  of  the  West 
Iudies,  though  under  the  liue,  the  heats  are  not  so  intolerable  as 
they  are  in  Barbary  aud  the  skirts  of  the  torrid  zone.  The 
causes  are,  first,  the  great  breezes  tvhich  the  motion  of  the  air  in 
great  circles,  such  as  are  under  the  girdle  of  the  earth,  producetli.v 
Puck,  then,  is  the  ministering  wind,  Oheron's  familiar  or  aerial 
•spirit,  who  will,  at  his  bidding,  sweep  round  the  girdle  of  the 
earth,  where,  according  to  Bacon's  observatious,  winds  travel 
with  the  greatest  speed. 

Puck  is  "  one  of  the  free  winds  which  range  over  a  wide 
space."  We  know  this,  because  he  calls  himself2  "a  merry 
wanderer  of  the  night, "  and  the  free  winds,  Bacon  tells  us,  "  last, 
generally,  for  twenty-four  hours;"  it  is  the  "  smaller  and  lighter 
winds "  which  "  generally  rise  in  the  morning  and  fall  at 
sunset."3 

The  first  scene  in  which  the  fairies  enter  suggests  the  airi- 
ness of  the  elves,  the  "  rare  "  and  wind-like  nature  which 
Bacon  says  resembles  fame,  "  for  the  winds  penetrate  and 
bluster  everywhere."  The  fairies  here  seem  to  be  "the  free 
winds  blowing  from  every  quarter,"  and  the  first  speaker  "  an 
attendant  wind, "  whose  duty  it  is  "  to  collect  clouds, "  and 
which  are,  according  to  the  "  History,"  of  a  moist  nature. 

iThe  following  is  reprinted  from  an  article  published  in  Shakespeariana, 
April,  1884. 

2  M.  N.  D.  ii.  1. 

3  History  of  Winds.    Spedding,  Works,  v.  143. 


AtfD  SIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  241 

PiicL    How  now,  spirit,  whither  wander  youl 
FaL    Over  hill,  over  dale, 

Thorough  bush,  thorough  brier, 

Over  park,  over  pale, 

Thorough  flood,  thorough  fire, 

I  do  wander  everywhere, 

Swifter  than  the  moon's  sphere; 

And  I  serve  the  fairy  queen, 

To  dew  her  orbs  upon  the  green. 

The  cowslips  tall  her  pensioners  be: 

In  their  gold  coats  spots  you  see; 

Those  be  rubies,  fairy  favours, 

In  those  freckles  live  their  savours: 

I  must  go  seek  some  dewdrops  here, 

And  hang  a  pearl  in  every  cowslip's  ear. 

There  is  something  infinitely  pleasurable  in  tracing  in  the 
speeches  of  the  fairies  which  follow  all  the  details,  as  to  their 
nature,  avocations,  and  abode,  of  the  spirits  of  fire,  air,  earth, 
and  water,  which  are  here  so  exquisitely  presented  to  us— 

The  fairies  who  meet  in  groves  and  green  — 
By  fountain  clear  or  spangled  starlight  sheen. 

And  although  the  more  popular  idea  of  fairies,  because  (so  we 
think)  it  was  first  so  presented  in  this  play,  is  the  idea  of  "  wood 
nymphs, "  "  terrestrial  spirits, "  we  still  find  the  fairies  of  the  hill 
and  dale,  of  forest  and  mead,  mixed  up  and  consorting  with 
lighter  winds  and  breezes  which  spring  up  beside  rivers  and 
running  water.    Titania  upbraids  Oberon  because 

Never,  since  the  middle  summer's  spring, 

Met  we  on  hill,  in  dale,  forest  or  mead, 

By  paved  fountain  or  by  rushy  brook, 

Or  on  the  beached  margent  of  the  sea, 

To  dance  our  ringlets  to  the  whistling  wind, 

But  with  thy  brawls  thou  hast  disturb'd  our  sport. 

In  a  speech  of  nearly  forty  lines,  she  continues  to  pour  out  a 
string  of  Baconian  observations  on  the  "  contagious"  effects  of 
fogs,  sucked  up  from  the  sea  by  the  revengeful  winds;  of  the 
"  rotting"  produced  by  warm,  damp  windi  (which,  Bacon  adds, 
are  usually  from  the  south  or  southwest);  of  the  rheumatic  dis- 
orders and  changes  of  season  and  consequent  "  distempera- 

16 


242  FRANCIS  BACON 

tures"  resulting  from  inundations,  which  have  "  drowned"  the 
fields  and  filled  the  nine  men's  morris  with  the  unwholesome 
"mud"  which  Bacon's  soul  abhorred.  The  influence  of  the 
moon  is  also  noted  here,  as  in  the  scientific  notes: 

"  The  moon,  the  governess  of  floods, 
Palo  in  her  anger,  washes  all  the  air." 

And  the  effect  which  she  produces,  of  raising  the  tides  and  so 
of  causing  inundations  and  destruction  of  vegetation,  is  as  clearly 
marked  as  in  the  notes  on  the  Ebb  and  Floiv  of  the  Sea,'ov  in  the 
Sylva  Sylvarum. 

"  The  periodical  winds,"  says  Bacon,  "  do  not  bloiv  at  night, 
but  get  up  the  third  hour  after  sunrise.  All  free  winds,  likewise, 
blow  oftener  and  more  violently  in  the  morning  and  evening 
than  at  noon  and  night. "  So,  when  midnight  approaches,  Oberon 
and  his  train  retire,  "following  darkness  like  a  dream,"  but 
with  commands  to  "  meet  me  all  by  break  of  day. " 

In  the  last  scene  of  this  charmingly  spiritual  piece,  Pack 
again  declares  himself  the  true  child  of  Bacon's  imagination. 
In  describing  the  frolics  of  the  fairies  (perhaps  the  "  frivolous 
winds,"  which  he  describes  as  " performing  dances,  of  which  it 
would  be  pleasing  to  know  the  order"),  Puck  speaks  of  sprites 
who  are  let  forth  to  "  glide  about " : 

"...  fairies  that  do  run 
By  the  triple  Hecate's  team, 
From  the  presence  of  the  sun." 

For,  Bacon  says,  "  the  winds  cease  at  noon."  Of  himself. 
Puck  says : 

"  I  am  sent  with  broom  before, 
To  siveep  the  dust  behind  the  door." 

For  as  we  again  read  in  the  History  of  Winds :  "  To  the 
earth,  which  is  the  seat  and  habitation  of  men,  the  icinds  serve 
for  brooms,  siveeping  and  cleansing 'both  it  and  the  air  itself." 

The  poet,  then,  according  to  these  observations,  derived  his 
lovely  conceptions  of  the  fairies,  in  the  first  instance,  from  his 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  243 

careful  but  suggestive  notes  on  the  zephyrs  and  breezes,  of 
whom  he  makes  Puck  chief  or  swiftest.  To  many  other  airy 
nothings  he  gives  neither  a  local  habitation  nor  a  name.  Yet 
we  feel  sure  that  they  are  the  vital  spirits  of  nature  —  "  water- 
nymphs  conversant  with  waters  and  rivers, "such  as  Oberon 
has  employed  to  "  cause  inundations  " — or  they  are  terrestrial 
spirits,  like  the  Hobgoblins  and  Robin  Goodfellows  of  the 
Anatomy,  and  who  do  the  same  domestic  drudgery,  and  play  the 
same  pranks  that  are  there  described  in  similar  detail,  bringing, 
in  spite  of  their  fun  and  mischief,  good  luck  to  the  houses  which 
they  frequent. 

Fai.    Either  I  mistake  your  shape  and  making  quite, 
Or  else  you  are  that  shrewd  and  knavish  sprite 
Call'd  Robin  Goodfellow :  are  not  you  he 
That  frights  the  maidens  of  the  villagery ; 
Skim  milk,  .and  sometimes  labour  in  the  quern 
And  bootless  make  the  breathless  housewife  churn  ; 
And  sometimes  make  the  drink  to  bear  no  barm  ; 
Mislead  night-wanderers,  laughing  at  their  harm  ? 
Those  that  Hobgoblin  call  you  aud  sweet  Puck, 
You  do  their  work,  and  they  shall  have  good  luck : 
Are  not  you  he  ? 

Pack.  Thou  speak'st  aright ; 

I  am  that  merry  wanderer  of  the  night. 
I  jest  to  Oberon  and  make  him  smile 
When  I  a  fat  and  bean-fed  horse  beguile, 
Neighing  in  likeness  of  a  filly  foal ; 
And  sometime  lurk  I  in  a  gossip's  bowl, 
In  very  likeness  of  a  roasted  crab, 
And  when  she  drinks,  against  her  lips  I  bob, 
And  on  her  wither'd  dewlap  pour  the  ale. 
The  wisest  aunt,  telling  the  saddest  tale, 
Sometime  for  three-foot  stool  mistaketh  me; 
Then  slip  I  from  her,  then  down  topples  she, 
And  "tailor"  cries,  and  falls  into  a  cough  ; 
And  then  the  whole  quire  hold  their  hips  and  laugh, 
And  waxen  in  their  mirth,  and  neezo  and  swear. 
A  merrier  hour  was  never  wasted  there. l 

"  Sir  Fulke  Greville  .  .  .  would  say  merrily  of  himself :  that 
he  was  like  Robin  Goodfellow,  for  when  the  maids  spilt  the  milk- 

1  Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 


244  FRANCIS  BACON 

pans,  or  kept  any  racket,  they  would  lay  it  on  Robin;  so,  what 
tales  the  ladies  about  the  Queen  told  her,  or  other  bad  offices 
they  had,  they  would  put  it  upon  him. "i 

There  are  four  fairies  besides  Puck,  who,  somewhat  less 
ethereal  than  the  rest,  specially  connect  themselves  with  the 
studies  of  the  natural  philosopher,  and  appear  to  be  the  very 
coinage  of  his  brain.  In  recalling  the  flowers  which  perfume 
the  air  most  delightfully  in  gardens,  when  crushed  or  trodden 
upon,  Bacon  begins  with  "  bean  flowers, "  but  checks  himself 
by  saying  that  they  are  not  for  gardens,  because  they  are  field 
flowers. "  Elsewhere  he  says  that  "  the  daintiest  smells  of  flow- 
ers are  those  plants  whose  leaves  smell  not,  as  the  bean  flower." 
He  suggests  "  the  setting  of  whole  alleys  of  burnet,  wild  thyme, 
and  mint,  to  have  pleasure  when  you  walk  and  tread,"  and  in 
another  place  he  says  that  "  odours  are  very  good  to  comfort  the 
heart,"  and  the  smell  of  leaves  falling  and  of  bean  blossoms  sup- 
plies a  good  coolness  to  the  spirits.  Thus,  whilst  commending 
the  sweetness  of 

"A  bank  whereon  the  wild  thyme  grows," 

bean  flowers  are,  in  his  estimation,  sweeter  still,  and  in  the 
fairy  "  Peaseblossom  "  of  the  play  we  seem  to  recognise  the 
"  bean  flower,"  sweetest  of  perfumes  amongst  field  flowers,  and 
whose  mission  is  to  supply  a  "cooling"  and  "comforting" 
odour  to  the  bank  whereon  the  Fairy  Queen  will  repose. 
"  Mustardseed  "  is  a  brisk  ministering  spirit  of  the  fairy  court, 
for  "  mustard,"  says  Bacon,  has  in  it  "  a  quick  spirit,  ready  to 
get  up  and  spread. " 

"Where's  Monsieur  Mustardseed  ? 
Ready  .  .  .  What's  your  will ! " 

Peaseblossom  and  Cobweb  are  also  ready,  but  only  the  fiery 
and  quick-spirited  Mustardseed  is  ready  to  get  tip  and  act. 

Then  Moth — be  not  appalled,  delicate  reader— Moth  seems 
to  be  the  winged  product  of  Bacon's  experiments  touching 
living  creatures  bred  of  putrefaction.  "  For  putrefaction  is  the 
work  of  the  spirits  of  bodies,  which  ever  are  unquiet  to  get 

l  Bacon's  Apophthegms,  235;  Spedding,  Works,  vii.  158. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  245 

forth  and  congregate  with  the  air  "  (the  wind  fairies),  "  and  to 
enjoy  the  sunbeams."  Titania  is  the  sunbeam,  the  vivifying 
and  all-cheering  spirit  of  living  things.  Her  name  proclaims 
her  nature.  We  are  told  "  moths  and  butterflies  quicken  with 
heat,  and  revive  easily,  even  when  tbey  seem  dead,  being 
brought  near  the  sun."  What,  then,  can  be  more  fitting  than 
that  the  soft,  ephemeral  white  "  Moth  "  should  be  found  hovering 
or  flitting  about  where  Titania,  the  Sunbeam,  is? 

Cobweb,  or  Gossamer,  is  another  almost  immaterial  creature, 
"  bred  by  dew  and  sun  all  over  the  ground.  .  .  .  Cobwebs  are 
most  seen  where  caterpillars  abound,  which  breedeth  (sic)  by 
dew  and  leaves.  "  They  are  a  sign  of  dryness,  .  .  .  and  come 
when  the  dry  east  winds  have  most  blown."  The  ideas  which 
spring  from  these  details,  and  which  are  woven  into  the 
"  Dream,"  are  as  subtile  as  the  Gossamer  itself,  and  almost  as 
difficult  to  handle  without  destroying  their  beauty.  By  means 
of  the  clues  offered  by  the  simple  names  of  the  attendants  upon 
Titania,  we  may,  if  we  will,  follow,  panting,  the  nimble  bounds 
of  the  poet's  fancy,  to  bend  and  twirl  and  light  in  unexpected 
places,  while  he  leads  us  a  dance  through  the  sciences  —  that 
"  labyrinth,"  whose  paths  are  "  so  subtle,  intricate,  and  crossing 
each  other,  that  they  are  only  to  be  understood  and  traced  by 
the  clue  of  experience." 

We  conjure  up,  perhaps  faintly,  the  dream  which  he  was 
dreaming  of  universal  nature  —  the  Oberon  of  the  play 1  —  of  the 
nature  upon  which  the  zephyrs  and  soft  winds  wait,  hasting  to 
assist  the  operations  of  the  Sunbeam,  the  life-giver.  When  the 
east  winds  have  dried  the  banks,  Cobweb  overspreads  them 
with  his  delicate  covering  to  receive  the  Fairy  Queen,  and  as 
she  sleeps,  her  "  spirits  cooled,"  and  her"  heart  comforted  "  by 
the  perfumes  which  Peaseblossom  scatters,  Moth  fans  her  with 
his  noiseless  wings,  and  Mustardseed  stands  ready  to  spring  up 
to  obey  her  best  or  know  what  is  her  will. 

l  Compare  Oberon  with  Pan  as  described  in  the  essay  by  Bacon  and  in  the 
De  Augments.  The  universal  nature  of  things,  which  lias  its  origin  from 
confused  matter;  the  hairiness  of  his  body  representing  the  rays  of  things ;  his 
control  over  the  nature  and  fates  of  things  —  as  Oberon,  in  the  play,  is  seen  to 
regulate  the  general  course  of  events. 


246  FRANCIS  BACON 

Those  fairies  were  the  children  of  an  idle  brain  —  considering 
whose  brain  it  was.  Troubles  which  were  but  as  a  summer 
cloud,  in  comparison  to  the  storms  which  broke  over  his  later 
life,  had  lately  passed  away  when  that  rare  vision  was  dreamed. 
The  pert  and  nimble  spirit  of  mirth  was  again  wide-awake. 
Francis  Bacon's  pretty  device,  The  Masque  of  the  Indian  Boy, 
had  lately  been  performed  before  the  Queen ;  his  mind  was  full 
of  thoughts  such  as  pervade  that  little,  courtly  piece,  when,  in 
the  glades  and  river-scenes  of  Twickenham,  the  poet,  as  we 
believe,  on  some  hot  summer's  night,  wrote  his  fairy  story. 

Things  had  changed  when  he  set  his  pen  to  write  Macbeth. 
"  There's  nothing  either  good  or  ill  but  thinking  makes  it  so. " 
The  world  and  its  joys  had  grown  dark  to  Francis  Bacon,  and 
the  very  elements,  the  powers  of  nature,  turned  wild  and 
gloomy  in  the  distracted  globe  of  his  great  mind. 

The  winds  are  no  longer  "  frivolous, "  "  danciug, "  "  piping, 
and  whistling  to  each  other,"  "  gamboling  with  golden  locks," 
"playing  with  the  sedges."  They  are  now  the  powerful  and 
portentous  ministers  of  fate  as  well  as  of  nature;  their  realm  is 
full  of  hurly-burly,  fog  and  filthy  air;  their  nature,  still  spiritual, 
is  no  longer  fairy-like,  but  witch-like  and  demoniacal.  The 
beneficent  merry  spirits  have  been  transformed  into  the  evil 
geniuses  and  hell-hags,  whose  mission  is  to  confound  unity, 
to  lead  men  on  to  their  destruction,  to  tumble  all  nature 
together,  even  till  destruction  sickens. 

The  witches  of  Macbeth  have  about  them  some  points  which 
distinguish  them  from  all  other  beings  of  the  kind  with  whom 
literature  acquaints  us.  They  seem  to  have  been  created  in  the 
poet's  brain  by  a  subtle  blending  or  fusion  of  his  lawyer's  expe- 
rience in  trials  for  witchcraft  —  of  "  witches,  inhabitants  of 
earth" — with  his  scientific  and  metaphysical  investigations  and 
conceits  as  to  the  properties  and  "  versions  "  of  air,  breath,  and 
water;  of  the  "transmissions  of  spiritual  species;  "  of  "the 
operations  of  sympathy  in  things  which  have  been  contiguous." 
Bacon's  witches,  inhabitants  rather  of  the  air  and  clouds  than 
of  the  earth,  partake  (by  sympathy  with  the  elements  to  which 
they  are  "  contiguous  " )  of  the  virtues  and  characteristics  of 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  247 

air,  vapours,  and  exhalations.  It  was  a  recognised  character- 
istic of  witches,  that  they  ride  through  the  air  generally  on 
broomsticks,  and  vanish,  but  the  more  poetical  idea  of  their 
conversion,  at  pleasure,  into  the  elements  to  which  they  are 
made  kindred,  is,  we  believe,  only  to  be  found  in  Macbeth. 

In  the  few  descriptive  words  of  Macbeth  and  Banquo  1  the 
scientific  doctrine  of  the  convertibility  of  air,  vapour,  and  water 
is  clearly  seen,  and  with  it  the  poetical  and  very  Baconian 
doctrine  of  the  mutual  influence  of  body  and  spirit.  It  is  by 
sympathy  that  the  witches  can  turn  themselves  into  either  form. 
Spirits  they  are,  airy,  or  "  pneumatic  bodies,  which  partake 
both  of  an  oily  and  watery  substance,  and  which,  being  converted 
into  a  pneumatic  substance,  constitute  a  body  composed,  as  it 
were,  of  air  and  flame,  and  combining  the  mysterious  properties 
of  both.  Now,  these  bodies,"  continues  Bacon,  "  are  of  the 
nature  of  breaths. " 

The  witches  vanish,  and  Banquo  exclaims: 

"  The  earth  has  hubbies  as  the  water  hath, 
And  these  are  of  them.     Whither  are  they  vanished  1 " 

Macbeth  replies: 

"  Into  the  air:  and  what  seemed  corporal,  melted 
As  breath,  into  the  wind.  " 

So,  too,  he  describes  to  Lady  Macbeth  how,  when  he  tried  to 
question  the  witches : 

"  They  made  themselves  air,  into  which  they  vanished." 

There  is  in  this  line  something  singularly  weird,  supernatural, 
and  poetic,  drawn,  as  it  surely  is,  and  as  Bacon  tells  us  that  all 
great  sayings  are  drawn,  from  the  very  centre  of  the  sciences. 

The  witches,  in  the  first  act,  appear  to  be  incarnations  of  air, 
in  violent  agitation  or  motion ;  strong  winds,  accompanied  by 
thunder  and  lightning,  such  as  Bacon  describes.  In  the  third 
scene  two  witches,  spirits  of  air,  offer  to  help  Hecate  by  the 
gift  of  a  wind.  They  are  more  generous  than  the  aerial  spirits 
mentioned  in  the    Anatomy,  who   "sett  winds,"  and    Hecate 

l  Macbeth,  i.  3,  79-82. 


248  FRANCIS  BACON 

acknowledges  their  merit.     "  Thou  art  kind,"  she  says,  for  she 
is  busy  raising  tempest  after  the  manner  described  by  Bacon,1 
and  an  extra  wind  or  so  is  not  unacceptable. 
In  the  same  scene  the  weird  sisters  describe  themselves  as : 

"  Posters  of  the  sea  and  land," 

just  as,  in  the  History  of  Winds,  Bacon  speaks  of  "  clouds  that 
drive  fast,"  "winds  traders  in  vapours,"  "winds  that  are 
itinerant. " 

It  may  be  remembered  that  the  aerial  spirits  were  specially 
described  in  the  Anatomy  as  causing  tempests  in  which  they  tear 
oaks,  fire  steeples,  cause  sickness,  shipwrecks,  and  inundations. 
A  similar  description  is  given  in  the  History  of  Winds  and  of  the 
Management  of  Ships.  "  Winds  are  like  great  waves  of  the  air. 
.  .  .  They  may  Wow  doivn  trees ;  .  .  .  they  may  likewise  over- 
turn edifices ;  but  the  more  solid  structures  they  cannot  destroy, 
unless  accompanied  by  earthquakes.  Sometimes  they  hurl  down 
avalanches  from  the  mountains  so  as  almost  to  bury  the  plains 
beneath  them;  sometimes  they  cause  great  inundations  of  water. " 

See  how  all  these  points  are  reproduced  by  Macbeth  when  he 
conjures  the  witches : 

Macb.    I  conjure  you,  by  that  which  you  profess, 
Howe'er  you  come  to  know  it,  answer  rne  : 
Though  you  untie  the  winds  and  let  them  fight 
Against  the  churches;  though  the  yesty  waves 
Confound  and  swallow  navigation  up ; 
Though  bladed  corn  be  lodged  and  trees  blown  down ; 
Though  castles  topple  on  their  warders'  heads ; 
Though  palaces  and  pyramids  do  slope 
Their  heads  to  their  foundations ;  though  the  treasure 
Of  nature's  germens  tumble  altogether, 
Even  till  destruction  sicken;  answer  mo 
To  what  I  ask  you.2 

The  meetings  of  the  witches  in  every  case  derive  their  pictur- 
esqueness  and  colour  from  Bacon's  notes  "  on  the  meetings  of 
the  winds  together,  which,  if  the  winds  be  strong,  produce  vio- 

1  See  Hist,  of  Winds,  Sylva  Sylvarum,  and  the  passage  from  the  Anatomy, 
quoted  ante. 

2  Macb.  iv.  i. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  249 

lent  whirlwinds, "  and  it  is  interesting  to  find  that  the  hint  for 
"the  sound  of  battle  in  the  air,"  and  which  is  introduced  as  a 
portent  in  Julius  Ccesar — 

"  The  noise  of  battle  hurtled  in  the  air"  l 

(and  which,  by  the  way,  is  also  included  in  the  notes  of  the 
Anatomist  — "  Counterfeit  armies  in  the  air,  strange  noises, 
swords,  etc.)  — was  originally  taken  from  the  poet  Virgil,  from 
whom,  indeed,  the  idea  of  the  meeting  of  the  four  witches,  as 
of  "the  rushing  together  of  the  four  winds,"  may  have  been 
taken. 

"  Virgil .  .  .  was  by  no  means  ignorant  of  Natural  Philosophy. " 
"  At  once  the  winds  rush  forth,  the  east,  and  south,  and  south- 
west laden  with  storms."  2 

And  again: 

"  I  have  seen  all  the  battles  of  tlve  winds  meet  together  in  the  air."  3 

In  the  Tempest  much  of  the  fun  and  sprightliness  of  the  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream  peeps  out  again,  and  the  "  gross  matter  » 
of  prosaic  scientific  notes  is  again  vapourized  into  ideas  as  light 
as  the  airs  of  the  enchanted  isle  of  which  the  poet-philosopher 
wrote. 

"Inquire,"  says  the  History,  "  into  the  nature  of  the  winds, 
whether  some  are  not  free?  .  .  .  What  do  mountains  contribute 
to  them  ?  " 

Prospero  says  to  Ariel:  "  Thou  shalt  be  free  as  mountain 

winds." 

"  The  poets,"  continues  the  History,  "  have  feigned  that  the 
Kingdom  of  Sol  was  situated  in  subterranean  deus  and  caverns, 
where  the  Winds  are  imprisoned,  and  whence  they  were  occasion- 
ally let  loose.  .  .  .  The  air  will  submit  to  some  compression.  .  .  . 
At  Aber  Barry  there  is  a  rocky  cliff  filled  with  holes,  to  which 
if  a  man  apply  his  ear,  he  will  hear  sounds  and  murmurs."  In 
Potosi  are  vents  for  hot  blasts." 


i  Jul.  Cces.  ii.  2.    2  ^neid,  i.  83,  quoted  in  Hist,  of  Winds.    3  Georgics,  i,  318, 
and  compare  Macbeth,  ii.  3,  55,  CO. 


250  FRANCIS  BACON 

Prospero  reminds  Ariel  of  his  miserable  condition  as  an  im- 
prisoned bird  under  the  control  of  the  witch  Sycorax,  and  of  how- 
he  had  to  submit  to  painful  compression,  "  venting  his  groans  " 
for  a  dozen  years.  He  threatens  farther  punishment  if  Ariel 
continues  to  murmur : 

And,  for  thou  wast  a  spirit  too  delicate 

To  act  her  earthy  and  abhorr'd  commands, 

Refusing  her  grand  hests,  she  did  confine  thee, 

By  help  of  her  more  potent  ministers 

And  in  her  most  immitigable  rage, 

Into  a  cloven  pine;  within  which  rift 

Imprison'd  thou  didst  painfully  remain 

A  dozen  years ;  within  which  space  she  died 

And  left  thee  there ;  where  thou  didst  vent  thy  groans 

As  fast  as  mill-wheels  strike. 


Thou  best  know'st 
"What  torment  I  did  find  thee  in ;  thy  groans 
Did  make  wolves  howl  and  penetrate  the  breasts 
Of  ever  angiy  bears :  it  was  a  torment 
To  lay  upon  the  damn'd,  which  Sycorax 
Could  not  again  undo :  it  was  mine  art, 
When  I  arrived  and  heard  thee,  that  made  gape 
The  pine  and  let  thee  out. 

Ari.  I  thank  thee,  master. 

Pr.    If  thou  more  murmur'st,  I  will  rend  an  oak 
And  peg  thee  in  his  knotty  entrails  till 
Thou  hast  howl'd  away  twelve  winters.! 

Sooner  than  undergo  any  further  compression  Ariel  asks  par- 
don,, and  promises  to  do  his  spiriting  gently.  Prospero  then 
commands  him  to  make  a  "  version  "  of  himself  from  air  into 
water  (a  converse  process  to  that  performed  by  the  witches). 

"  Go,  make  thyself  a  nymph  of  the  sea." 

"  No  wonder, "  Bacon  reflects,  "  that  the  nature  of  the  winds 
is  ranked  amongst  the  things  mysterious  and  concealed,  when 
the  power  and  nature  of  the  air  which  the  winds  attend  and 
serve  is  entirely  unknown.  .  .  .  Inquire  into  the  nature  of  the 

1  Tempest,  i.  2. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY  251 

attendant  winds,  their  community,  etc."  This  mysterious  and 
concealed  characteristic  of  the  winds  is  hinted  when  Ariel  dis- 
guises himself,  and  appears  as  a  harpy.  "  I  and  my  felloivs,"  he 
says,  "  are  ministers  of  fate,"  incapable  of  injury,  "  invulner- 

able." 

The  winds  have  "  apower  of  conveying  spiritual  species,  that  is, 
sounds,  radiations,  and  the  like;"  these  Bacon  would  have 
inquired  into.  The  excited  imagination  and  uneasy  conscience 
of  Alonzo  make  him  nervously  impressionable,  and  able  to 
recognise  these  spiritual  sounds: 

Alon.  Oh,  it  is  monstrous,  monstrous ! 

Mcthought  the  billows  spoke  and  told  me  of  it ; 
The  winds  did  sing  it  to  me,  and  the  thunder, 
That  deep  and  dreadful  organ-pipe,  pronounced 
The  name  of  Prosper:  it  did  bass  my  trespass.l 

A  passage  which,  in  gloomier  and  more  tragic  language,  is 

echoed  in  Macbeth : 

Aii  &  pity,  like  a  naked  new-born  babe, 
Striding  the  blast,  or  heaven's  cherubim,  horsed 
Upon  the  sightless  couriers  of  the  air, 
Shall  blow  the  horrid  deed  in  every  eye, 
That  tears  shall  drown  the  wind.  2 

The  notes  on  the  tremendous  force  of  the  winds  are  once  more 
distilled  into  verse  in  the  Tempest,  where,  also,  the  gentler 
winds  are  described  "  driving  on  the  tides  and  currents,  some- 
times propelling,  and  sometimes  flying  from  one  another,  as  if  in 
sport  "  These  winds,  weak  masters  though  they  be,  assist, 
Bacon  says,  in  promoting  an  «  agitation  "  and  "  collision  " 
amongst  the  violent  winds,  and  "  drive  them  along  in  mad  fury." 
In  other  words,  the  tempest,  raised  by  the  attendant  and  min- 
istering winds,  is  combined  with  an  earthquake,  over  which  the 
winds  have  no  control,  but  which  the  magician  has  caused  by 
his  art. 


1  Tempest,  iii-  3. 

2  Macbeth  i.  7.      The  last  line  seems  to  refer  to  Bacon's  observation  that 
"showers  generally  allay  the  winds,  especially  if  they  be  stormy. 


252  FRANCIS  BACON 

See  the  lovely  creation  from  these  elements: 

Pros.    Ye  elves  of  hills,  brooks,  standing  lakes  and  groves, 
And  ye  that  on  the  sands  with  printless  foot 
Do  chase  the  ebbing  Neptune  and  do  fly  him 
When  he  comes  back;  you  demi-puppets  that 
By  moonshine  do  the  green-sour  ringlets  make, 
Whereof  the  ewe  not  bites,  and  you  whose  pastime 
Is  to  make  midnight  mushrooms,  that  rejoice 
To  hear  the  solemu  curfew;  by  whose  aid, 
Weak  masters  though  ye  be,  I  have  bediinm'd 
The  noontide  suu,  call'd  forth  the  mutinous  winds, 
Aud  'twixt  the  green  sea  and  the  azured  vault 
Set  roaring  war:  to  the  dread  rattling  thunder 
Have  I  given  fire  and  rifted  Jove's  stout  oak 
With  his  own  bolt;  the  strong-based  promontory 
Have  I  made  shake,  and  by  the  spurs  pluck'd  up 
The  pine  and  cedar:  graves  at  my  command 
Have  waked  their  sleepers,  oped,  and  let  'em  forth 
By  my  so  potent  art. 

These  lines  give  us  hints  of  Bacon's  curious  "  Experiments 
Touching  the  Rudiments  of  Plants,  of  Excrescences,"  etc. 
"  Moss,"  he  says,  "  coineth  of  moisture,"  aud  is  made  of  the 
sap  of  the  tree  "  which  is  not  so  frank  as  to  rise  all  the  boughs, 
but  tireth  by  the  ivay  and  putteth  out  moss. "  i  A  quaint  idea ! 
full  of  that  Paracelsian  notion  of  the  spirits  or  souls  of  things, 
and  very  Baconian,  too.  Bacon  thought  that  the  winds  had 
something  to  do  with  such  growths,  for  trees  are  said  to  bear 
most  moss  that  "  stand  bleak  and  upon  the  winds."  Next  to 
moss  he  speaks  of  mushrooms,  which  he  associates  with  moss, 
as  being  "  likewise  an  imperfect  plant."  Mushrooms  have  two 
strange  properties.  "  the  one  is,  they  yield  so  delicious  a  meat  " 
(therefore  they  are  deserving  of  the  fairies'  trouble  in  growing 
them);  "  the  other,  that  they  come  up  so  hastily,  and  yet  they  are 
unsown  "  (and  how  could  that  be  except  they  were  sown  by  the 
fairies?).  Like  moss,  "  they  come  of  moisture,  and  are  tvindy, 
but  the  windiness  is  not  sharp  and  griping ;"  they  are,  therefore, 
unlike  "  the  green-sour  ringlets  "  which  the  fairies  make  in  the 

1  Nat.  Hist.  vi.  540. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  253 

moonlight  (where,  Beacon  says,  nothing  will  ripen),  and  which 
even  the  sheep  will  not  eat,  though  sheep  love  mushrooms. 

The  wind-fairies  "  rejoice  to  hear  the  solemn  curfew,  lms 
tells  us  that  these  are  the  south  winds,  "for  the  south  wind  is 
the  attendant  of  the  night;   it  rises  in  the  night,  and  blows 

stronger.''11  _       .  .  „ 

The  south  and  west  winds,  too,  are  "  warm  and  moist,  favour- 
able to  plants,  flowers,  and  all  vegetation;  "  hence  the  mush- 
rooms spring  up  quickly  under  their  influence. 

But  the  north  winds  are  "  more  potent  ministers ;  "  with  them 
occur  "  thunder,  lightning,  and  tornadoes,  accompanied  with 
cold  and  hail. »  2  They  are  "  unfriendly, »  and  even  destructive 
to  vegetable  life,  and  either  "  bind  the  flower  on  tlie  opening  of  it, 
or  shake  it  off."* 

"The  tyrannous  breathing  of  the  north 
Shakes  all  our  buds  from  growing."* 

"  Storms,"  continues  our  observant  naturalist, «  when  attended 
with  clouds  and  fog,  are  very  dangerous  at  sea."  Prospero, 
therefore,  to  make  his  tempest  the  more  terrible,  "  bedims  the 
noontide  sun,"  before  calling  forth  the  winds  and  the  thunder. 

»  The  anniversary  north  winds  »  come  "from  the  frozen  sea, 
and  the  region  about  the  Arctic  Circle,  where  the  ice  and  snow  are 
not  melted  till  the  summer  is  far  advanced."    Prospero  taunts 

"  Thouthink'st  it  much  to  tread  the  ooze 
Of  the  salt  deep, 

To  run  upon  the  sharp  wind  of  the  north 
When  it  is  baFd  with  frost." 

The  last  lines  seem  to  be  suggested  by  the  Latin  entry  in  the 
Promus  (No.  1367):    "  Frigus  adurit." 
The  idea  is  repeated  in  Hamlet: 

"  Frost  itself  as  actively  doth  burn."  6 

1  Hist.  Winds,  1,  2,  10,  12,  etc.,  qualities  and  powers. 

2  Comp.  Macb.  i.  1,  2.    Ham.  v.  2,  97. 

3  lb.  21,  24.  4  Cymh-  i-  4- 

5  Compare.  Macb.  i.  1,  of  the  witches'  storms. 

6  Hamlet,  iii.  4. 


254  FRANCIS  BACON 

The  philosophic  poet  does  not  forget  to  allude  to  the  effects  of 
"  warm  winds  and  moist  airs  in  inducing  putrefaction, "  and  in 
"increasing  pestilential  diseases  and  catarrhs."  Caliban's 
worst  imprecation  (which,  by  the  way,  personifies  even  dew  in 
true  Paracelsian  style)  is  this : 

''As  wicked  dew  as  e'er  my  mother  brush'd 
With  raven's  feather  from  unwholesome  fen 
Drop  on  you  both!  A  southwest  blow  on  ye 
And  blister  you  all  o'er." 

Prospero  is  equal  to  the  occasion,  and  answers  him  in  kind : 

"For  this,  be  sure,  thou  shalt  have  cramps, 
Side  stitches  that  shall  pen  thy  breath  up. 
.  .  .  I'll  rack  thee  with  old  cramps, 
Fill  all  thy  bones  with  aches.  "  i 

Bacon's  cogitations  on  winds,  contagion,  putrefaction,  and  the 
doctrines  of  the  human  body,  of  the  biform  figure  of  nature, 
and  of  the  sensitive  soul,  are  inextricably  interwoven  in  the 
Shakespeare  plays  of  the  later  period.  It  is  not  the  intention  of 
this  book  to  enter  deeply  into  anything;  the  aim  is  to  excite 
interest,  even  opposition,  if  that  will  promote  study,  and  at  least 
to  encourage  our  younger  readers  to  believe  that  all  is  not  yet 
known  on  any  of  these  subjects,  and  that  vast  fields  of  delight- 
ful and  profitable  research  lie  open  for  them  to  explore,  delve 
into,  and  cultivate.  But  in  order  to  do  this,  it  is  quite  certain 
that  the  tool  absolutely  indispensable  is  a  knowledge  of  Bacon's 
works  —  not  only  of  those  little  pithy  essays  which  embody  all 
that  the  ordinary  reader  conceives  as  Bacon's  writings,  exclusive 
of  "  exploded  science,"  and  law  tracts  and  speeches,  too  dull  to 
be  tackled.  Let  those  who  are  of  this  mind  take  those  very 
works  and  read  them  with  the  belief  that  they  are  the  keys  to 
all  the  great  literature  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries;  the  touchstones  by  which  the  authorship  of  other 
works  may  be  tried;  sketches  for  finished  pictures  or  condensed 
editions  of  more  casual  and  discursive  works  of  Bacon's  early 

1  Tempest,  i.  2,  and  compare  where  Thersites  curses  Patroclus  ( Troilus  and 
Cretsida,  v.  1),  and  where  Marcius  curses  the  Romans  (C'uriol.  i.  4,  30,  etc.). 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  255 

days.  Let  them  think  that  even  with  regard  to  the  Shake- 
speare plays  only  these  little-read  scientific  works  of  Bacon  are 
invaluable,  explaining  or  elucidating,  as  they  so  often  do,  the 
meaning  or  original  idea  of  obscure  passages,  and  often  enabling 
the  commentator  to  trace  the  thought  to  some  author  of 
antiquity,  or  to  some  observation  drawn  from  "  nature's  infinite 
book  of  secresy,"  in  which,  says  the  poet,  "a  little  I  can 
read. " 

The  last  scene  in  The  Tempest  shows  us  the  philosopher 
returning  from  the  "  recreative  "  writing,  which  relieved  the 
overflowing  of  a  full  brain,  to  the  graver  labours  aud  con- 
templations which  drew  Bacon  to  the  retirement  of  his  "  full 
poor  cell."  Play-time  was  over,  and  "these  things  are  but 
toys. " 

"  Our  revels  now  are  ended.    These  onr  actors, 
As  I  foretold  you,  were  all  spirits  and 
Are  melted  into  air,  into  thiu  air: 
And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  this  vision, 
The  cloud-capp'd  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces. 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself, 
Yea,  all  which  it  inherit,  shall  dissolve 
And,  like  this  insubstantial  pageant  faded, 
Leave  not  a  rack  behind.    We  are  such  stafr 
As  dreams  are  made  on,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep.    Sir,  I  am  vex'd; 
Bear  with  my  weakness ;  my  old  brain  is  troubled; 
Be  not  disturb'd  with  my  infirmity: 
If  you  be  pleased,  retire  into  my  cell 
And  there  repose:  a  turn  or  two  I'll  wait, 
To  still  my  beating  mind," 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MASONRY. 

"If  I  mistake 
In  those  foundations  which  I  build  upon, 
The  centre  is  not  strong  enough  to  bear 
A  schoolboy's  top." 

—  Winter's  Tale. 

ACCORDING  to  many  books  on  Freemasonry,  the  "  Eosicru- 
cians  had  no  connection  with  the  Masonic  fraternity. "  In 
the  face  of  collective  evidence  to  the  contrary,  it  is  very  difficult 
for  non-Masonic  people  to  credit  the  statement;  it  would  rather 
seem  as  if  the  desire  of  Masonic  writers  to  draw  a  hard  and  fast 
line  between  the  two  societies  were  confirmatory  of  hints  dropped 
in  certain  books  concerning  schisms  which,  during  the  last  two 
centuries,  have  occurred  amongst  the  brethren  or  brotherhoods. 
Originally  one  and  the  same,  alike  in  aims,  alike  in  symbolic 
language,  with  similar  traditions  tracing  back  to  similar  origins, 
some,  at  least,  of  the  members  supposed  to  have  constituted  the 
Rosicrucian  society  actually  were,  we  find,  members  of  the  Free- 
mason lodge.  The  only  conspicuous  differences  which  appear  to 
have  existed  three  hundred  years  ago  were:  (1)  That  the  Rosi- 
crucians  were  distinctly  Christian  and  church  people,  and  that 
the  magnificent  literature  brought  out  under  their  auspices  was 
all  either  religious  or  written  with  an  elevating  tendency,  inva- 
riably loyal,  patriotic,  and  unselfish.  (2)  That  the  society  was 
unostentatious  and  retiring  to  such  an  extent  as  to  gain  the 
name  of  the  Invisible  Brotherhood.  It  laboured  silently  and 
secretly  for  the  good  of  men,  but  not  to  be  seen  of  men.  It 
went  not  to  church  with  brass  bands  and  banners;  neither  did 
it  assume  magniloquent  titles  or  garments  and  decorations 
of  obsolete  or  grotesque  quaintness. 

256 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  257 

The  Rosicrucians  were  and  are  a  powerful,  but  unobtrusive, 
Christian  literary  society.  The  Freemasons  are,  we  believe, 
the  lower  orders  of  the  same;  deists,  but  not  necessarily  Christ- 
ians; moral,  but  not  necessarily  religious;  bent  on  benefiting 
the  human  race  by  all  means  humanitarian,  and  chiefly  devot- 
ing themselves  to  the  development  of  the  practical  side  of  life; 
to  architecture,  printing,  medicine,  surgery,  etc.;  to  the  arts 
and  crafts,  the  habitations,  the  recreations  of  the  million.  It  is 
easy  to  see  that,  in  the  first  instance,  such  societies  might  have 
worked  as  part  of  one  system.  Whether  or  not  they  continue 
in  any  degree  so  to  work,  we  cannot  positively  say;  but  it  seems  to 
the  mere  looker-on  as  if,  once  one,  the  society  divided,  subdivided, 
and  in  its  lower  branches  underwent  such  changes  as  to  be  not 
only  divergent,  but,  at  the  present  day,  different  in  character 
and  aim.  We  speak,  hoping  to  be  contradicted,  and  give,  as  an 
instance,  that  the  Freemasonry  of  Germany  seems  to  differ  very 
much  from  that  of  the  most  respectable  lodges  of  England, 
being  in  some  cases  not  only  not  Christian,  but  not  even  deistic; 
on  the  contrary,  persons  professedly  atheists  are  enrolled 
amongst  its  members,  and  this  miserable  degradation  of  the 
brotherhood  has,  we  are  told,  unhappily  extended  to  England 
and  America.  Need  it  be  said  that  to  atheism  and  irreligion 
is  too  frequently  added  the  so-called  socialism,  which  has,  in 
these  later  days,  done  so  much  to  stir  up  discontent  where  con- 
tent reigned,  destroying  order  and  respect  for  authority,  and 
setting  men  by  the  ears  who  should  be  joined  for  mutual  aid. 

Of  course,  this  is  the  bad  and  dark  side  of  the  question;  there  is 
a  very  bright  side,  too,  and  researches  (we  cannot  say  inquiries, 
for  they  are  fruitless)  encourage  us  to  hope  that  there  are  signs, 
either  of  the  "  drawing  together  "  of  opposite  parties,  for  which 
Bacon  so  earnestly  strove,  or  else  that  the  much-suppressed 
Rosicrucians,  the  gallant  little  band  who  held  together  through 
all  the  stormy  times  of  the  Puritans,  the  civil  wars,  the  Restora- 
tion, and  the  many  subsequent  troubles,  are  now  rapidly  multi- 
plying in  number,  increasing  in  power,  and  everywhere  extending 
their  beneficent  operations.  "  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know 
them. » 


258  FRANCIS  BACON 

But  all  this  is,  after  all,  mere  conjecture;  it  is  only  submitted 
as  such  in  order  that  others  may  pin  down  these  statements, 
proving  or  disproving  them.  Having  no  means  of  doing  so,  we 
fall  back,  for  the  present,  upon  our  old  plan  of  quoting  "  the 
best  authorities,"  and  when,  as  is  frequently  the  case,  these 
doctors  disagree,  readers  will,  perhaps,  cross-examine  them,  and 
decide  between  them. 

Dr.  Mackey  is  positive  that  the  Rosicrucians  have  no  connec- 
tion with  the  Masons.  He  is  indignant  that  any  one  should 
doubt  this.  "  Notwithstanding  this  fact,"  says  the  Doctor  (but 
bringing  no  proof  of  the  fact),  "  Barnel,  the  most  malignant  of 
our  revilers,  with  a  characteristic  spirit  of  misrepresentation, 
attempted  to  identify  the  two  institutions.  This  is  an  error  into 
which  others  might  unwittingly  fall,  from  confounding  the  Prince 
of  Rose  Croix,  a  Masonic  degree  somewhat  similar  in  name,  but 
entirely  different  in  character. "  Here,  again,  it  is  not  explained 
how  the  writer  has  become  so  intimately  acquainted  with  the 
characteristics  of  the  Rosicrucians,  seeing  that  he  is  not  him- 
self an  initiate  of  that  brotherhood.  He  proceeds  in  the  same 
strain  of  assertion,  without  proof:  "  The  Rosicrucians  do  not 
derive  their  name,  like  Rose  Croix  Masons,  from  the  rose  and  cross, 
for  they  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  rose,  but  with  the  Latin  ros, 
dew,  and  crux,  the  cross,  as  a  hieroglyphic  of  light.  ...  A 
Rosicrucian  philosopher  is  one  who,  by  the  assistance  of  dew 
(previously  explained  as  the  most  powerful  solvent  of  gold) 
seeks  for  light,  or  the  philosopher's  stone. "  l 

This  author  is  evidently  possessed  with  the  notion  that  there  is 
something  rather  discreditable  in  Rosicrucianism,  for  he  con- 
cludes with  an  apology  for  having  introduced  the  subject,  which 
only  a  fear  of  the  error  into  which  Masons  might  unwittingly  fall 
would,  apparently,  have  induced  him  to  touch  upon. 

Another  work  of  the  same  kind  has  a  long  article  on  Rosi- 
crucianism, in  which  all  the  old  traditions  and  errors  are  repeated: 
that  the  Rosy  Cross  brethren  were  alchemists;  that  their  origin 
was  of  great  antiquity,  etc.;  adding,  also,  other  errors,  namely, 

l  Lexicon  of  Freemasonry,  A.  G.  Mackey,  D.  D.  (Griffin  &  Co.,  Exeter  St., 
Strand),  7th  edition,  1883. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  259 

that  "  the  fraternity  seldom  had  meetings  together,"  and  that 
"  its  corporate  character  was  by  no  means  marked. "  The 
writer,  who  evidently  takes  a  much  more  correct  view  of  the 
aims  of  the  society  than  his  predecessor,  yet  adds  this  state- 
ment: "  The  modern  society  of  Rosicruciansis  constituted  upon 
a  widely  different  basis  than  that  of  the  parent  society.  While 
the  adepts  of  former  times  were  contented  with  the  knowledge  of 
their  mutual  obligations,  and  observed  them  as  a  matter  of  course 
and  custom,  the  eighteenth  century  Rosicrucians  forced  the 
world  to  think  that,  for  a  time,  they  were  not  only  the  precursors 
of  Masonry,  but,  in  essentia,  that  body  itself.  This  has  led  to  many 
misconceptions.  With  Freemasonry  the  occult  fraternity  has  only 
this  much  to  do,  i.  e.,  that  some  of  the  Rosicrucians  ivere  also  Free- 
masons; and  this  idea  was  strengthened  by  the  fact  that  a  por- 
tion of  the  curriculum  of  a  Rosicrucian  consisted  in  theosophy; 
these  bodies  had,  however,  no  other  substantial  connective  ties. 
In  fact,  Freemasons  have  never  actually  laid  claim  to  the  pos- 
session of  alchymical  secrets.  Starting  from  a  definite  legend  — 
that  of  the  building  of  Solomon's  temple  —  they  have  merely 
moralised  on  life,  death,  and  the  resurrection."  But  this,  we 
know,  is  the  same  definite  legend  from  which  the  Rosicrucians 
started,  and  they  moralised  after  the  same  fashion,  and  in  the 
same  strictly  Baconian  manner,  metaphorically  and  by  analogy; 
or,  as  our  author  here  formidably  puts  it,  "  correspondentially 
with  the  increase  and  decrease  and  the  palingenesia  of  nature. " 
He  pays  a  proper  tribute  to  the  superiority  of  the  Rosicrucians 
over  the  Freemasons  when  he  says  that,  as  the  science  of  mathe- 
matics contains  the  rude  germs  of  things,  and  the  science  of 
words  comprehends  the  application  of  these  forms  and  intel- 
lectual purification,  so  "  the  Rosicrucian  doctrine  specifically 
pointed  out  the  uses  and  inter-relations  between  the  qualities 
and  substances  in  nature,  although  their  enlarged  ideas  admit- 
ted of  a  moral  survey.  The  Freemasons,  while  they  have  de- 
served the  esteem  of  mankind  for  charity  and  works  of  love,  have 
never  accomplished,  and,  by  their  inherent  sphere  of  operation, 
never  can  accomplish,  what  these  isolated  students  effected." 
But,  although  the  extent  and  precise  nature  of  the  connec- 


200  FRANCIS  BACON 

tion  between  the  two  societies  may  not  be  accurately  definable ; 
though,  indeed,  it  may  be  unknown,  excepting  to  a  select  few, 
in  the  very  highest  degree  of  initiation,  yet,  the  ceremo- 
nies and  symbols  of  this  degree  of  Prince  Rouge  Croix  approach 
more  nearly  to  those  of  the  Rosy  Cross  Brotherhood  than  they 
do  even  to  other  degrees  of  their  own  Masonic  lodges.  For  the 
Rose  Croix  alone,  of  all  the  degrees  in  Masonry,  is  said  by  "  the 
best  authorities"  to  be  "eminently  a  Christian  degree,"  and 
hence  unattainable  by  an  immense  number  of  Masons.  We 
observe,  moreover,  that  the  "  monk  "  mentioned  by  the  Masonic 
writer  whom  we  are  about  to  cite  is  none  other  than  our  old 
friend  Johann  Valentin  Andreas,  the  formerly  accredited  author 
of  the  "  Chemical  Marriage  of  Christian  Rosenkreuz,"  which 
we  now  find  to  have  been  written  by  Francis  Bacon  at  the  age 
of  fifteen. 

It  will  also  be  observed  in  the  following  extracts  that  Ragon 
attributes  to  Andreas  the  same  motive  for  inaugurating  the 
secret  society  as  that  which  chiefly  influenced  Bacon,  the  grief, 
namely,  which  he  felt  at  the  loss  of  truth  through  vain  disputes 
and  pedantic  pride.  Clavel,  as  we  shall  see,  adds  another  thread 
to  strengthen  the  evidence  which  we  have  collected  to  show 
that,  whilst  on  the  one  hand  the  Rosicrucians  were  bound  in 
every  way  to  oppose  the  bigotry  and  superstition  of  the  Church 
of  Rome,  and  the  anti-Christian  pretences  of  the  pope  to  infal- 
libility, yet  it  was  not  the  Church  of  Rome,  or  its  chief  head  or 
pope,  against  which  the  Rosy  Cross  brothers  were  militant;  it 
was  against  the  errors,  the  bigotry  and  superstition  which  that 
church  indulged  in;  against  the  ignorance  and  darkness  in  which 
the  mass  of  its  members  were  intentionally  kept  by  its  priest- 
hood. The  highly  cultivated  and  sometimes  heavenly-minded 
members  of  the  Society  of  Jesus  must  doubtless  have  often  had 
reason  to  share  the  distress  attributed  to  the  monk  Andreas, 
and  we  think  that  it  will  probably  be  found  that  the  Rosy  Cross 
brethren  did,  in  fact,  obtain  great,  though  secret,  help  from  the 
more  liberal  amongst  the  Jesuit  communities. 

Ragon,  in  his  treatise  entitled  Orthodox ie  Magonnique,  at- 
tributes the  origin  of  the  Eighteenth  Degree,  or  the  "  Sovereign 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  261 

Prince  of  Rose-Croix  Heredom, "  to  a  pious  monk  named  John 
Valentine  Andreas,  who  flourished  in  the  early  part  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  and  who  wrote,  amongst  other  works,  two  trea- 
tises, oue  entitled  Judicorum  de  Fraternitate  R.  C,  the  other 
Noces  Chimiques  de  Rozen  Crutz.  Ragon  says  that  Andreas, 
grieved  at  seeing  the  principles  of  Christianity  forgotten  in  idle 
and  vain  disputes,  and  that  science  was  made  subservient  to 
the  pride  of  man,  instead  of  contributing  to  his  happiness, 
passed  his  days  in  devising  what  he  supposed  to  be  the  most 
appropriate  means  of  restoring  each  to  its  legitimate  moral  and 
benevolent  tendency.  Clavel  absurdly  afhrrns  that  the  degree 
was  founded  by  the  Jesuits,  for  the  purpose  of  counteracting 
the  insidious  attacks  of  free-thinkers  upon  the  Romish  faith, 
but  he  offers  no  evidence  in  support  of  his  assertion,;  in  fact, 
the  Jesuits  were  the  great  enemies  of  Masonry,  and,  so  far  from 
supporting  it,  wrote  treatises  against  the  order.  Many  of  the 
Rosicrucians  were  amongst  the  reformers  of  the  age,  and  hence 
the  hostility  of  the  Romish  Church.  The  almost  universal  rec- 
ognition of  this  degree  in  all  countries  would  favour  the  theory 
of  its  being  of  long  standing. 

Kurd,  in  his  Treatise  on  Religions,  speaks  of  the  Brethren  of 
the  Rose,  or Ne  Plus  Ultra.  "  They  were  to  declare  openly  that 
the  Pope  was  Antichrist,  and  that  the  time  would  come  when 
they  should  pull  down  his  triple  crown.  .  .  .  They  claimed  a 
right  of  naming  their  successors,  and  bequeathing  to  them  all 
their  privileges;  to  keep  the  devil  in  subjection;  and  that  their 
fraternity  could  not  be  destroyed,  because  God  always  opposed 
an  impenetrable  cloud  to  screen  them  from  their  enemies." 

Rosetti,  in  his  work  on  the  Antipapal  Spirit  of  Italy,  asserts 
similar  statements  with  regard  to  this  and  other  societies  con- 
nected with  Freemasonry.  "  The  ceremonies  of  the  degree  of  the 
Rose-Croix  are  of  the  most  imposing  and  impressive  character, 
and  it  is  eminently  a  Christian  degree.  Its  ritual  is  remarkable 
for  elegance  of  diction,  while  the  symbolic  teaching  is  not  qply 
pleasing,  but  consistent  with  the  Christian  faith,  figuratively 
expressing  the  passage  of  man  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death,  accompanied  and  sustained  by  the  Masonic  virtues  — 


2G2  FRANCIS  BACON 

faith,  hope,  and  charity  —  and  his  final  reception  into  the  abode 
of  light,  life,  and  immortality. " 1 

In  the  Rose-Croix  transparency  which  is  used  during  the  cere- 
monies there  is  a  cross  of  Calvary  raised  on  three  steps.  On  the 
cross  is  hung  a  crown  of  thorns  with  one  large  rose  in  the  centre; 
two  smaller  crosses  are  on  either  side,  with  skulls  and  cross- 
bones. 

These  symbols  would  alone  be  almost  sufficient  to  satisfy  our 
readers  of  the  Christian  character  of  that  degree;  but  the  jewel 
worn  by  the  initiate  is  even  more  distinct  in  its  announcement. 
This  jewel  includes  all  the  most  important  symbols  of  the  degree. 
It  is  a  golden  compass,  extended  on  an  arc  to  twenty-two  and  a 
half  degrees,  or  the  sixteenth  part  of  a  circle;  the  head  of  the 
compass  is  surmounted  by  a  crown  with  seven  emerald  points. 
The  compass  encloses  a  cross  of  Calvary  formed  of  rubies  or  gar- 
nets, having  in  its  centre  a  full-blown  rose,  whose  stem  twines 
round  the  lower  limb  of  the  cross.  At  the  foot  of  the  cross  is  a 
pelican,  wounding  her  breast  to  feed  her  young,  which  are  in  a 
nest  beneath. 

On  the  reverse  is  an  eagle  instead  of  the  pelican,  and  on  the 
arc  of  the  circle  is  engraved  in  cipher  the  pass-word  of  the 
degree. 2 

Taking  all  things  together,  evidence  favours  the  following 
conclusions  with  regard  to  the  Rosicrucians  and  the  Free- 
masons: 

1.  That  the  aims  of  the  Freemasons  are  (in  a  lower  degree) 
much  the  same  as  those  of  the  Rosicrucians. 

2.  That  the  Masons  begin  by  meeting  on  a  common  platform 
of  humanity,  and  that  they  propose  to  raise  their  initiates  step 
by  step  to  a  somewhat  higher  level. 

3.  That  their  highest  level  is  a  kind  of  theosophy  or  deism, 
or  at  least  that  no  more  than  this  is  required,  excepting  in  the 


1  From  the  Freemason's  Manual,  J.  How,  K.  T.  30°,  pp.  272-3,  3rd  edn.  re- 
vised and  illustrated.    J.  Hogg,  London,  1881. 

2  How's  Manual.    For  the  meaning  of  the  symbols  above  mentioned,  gee 

ante,  Emblems  and  Symbols. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  263 

Rose  Croix  degree.1  Here  the  Rosicrucians,  therefore,  seem  to 
part  from  them,  and  to  continue  to  mount.  Whereas  with  the 
Freemasons  Christ  and  his  church  are  practically  ignored,  with 
the  Rosicrucians  Christianity  is  tbe  life  and  soul  of  all  that 
they  have  done,  and  are  doing.  Whereas  the  words  "  Christ, " 
"  Church, ""  Religion,"  are  almost  banished  from  Freemason 
books,  the  mighty  literature  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries,  and  all  that  is  good,  great,  and  enduring  in  the 
present  age,  will  probably  be  traced  to  the  agency  of  this  uni- 
versal church  literary  society. 

4.  There  seems  to  be  no  evidence  that  Freemasonry,  in  the 
present  acceptation  of  the  term,  or  as  a  mutual  benefit  society, 
existed  before  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Church 
architects  and  builders,  who  had  secrets  of  their  own,  and  to 
whom,  probably,  we  owe  the  magnificent  structures  which  con- 
tinue to  be  models  to  our  own  time,  were  a  trade  guild  and  a 
church  guild  too.  Their  secrets  were  of  the  nature  of  the 
printer's  secrets  of  the  present  day,  not  only  for  mutual  use  and 
protection,  but  also  enclosing  certain  information  to  their  craft, 
and,  perhaps,  to  a  select  few,  beyond  that  enchanted  circle. 
But  in  no  way  can  we  say  that  these  old  builders  filled  the  places 
of  the  ubiquitous,  many-headed  Freemasons.  Moreover,  if  we 
mix  them  up  with  the  Knights  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem,  we 
still  find  ourselves  linked  with  "  the  Holy  Catholic  Church  "  of 
our  forefathers,  to  which  the  Rosicrucians  were  inseparably 
bound,  but  from  which  the  Freemason  writers  seem  most  anx- 
ious to  separate  themselves. 

Hepworth  Dixon2  tells  us  that  the  scheme  which  Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon  presented  to  Henry  VIII.  for  the  endowment  of  a  school 
of  law,  policy,  and  languages,  in   London,  was,  perhaps,  the 


1  In  connection  with  the  Rose  Croix  decree,  it  may  be  observed,  says  the 
same  authority,  that  the  initials  of  the  Latin  inscription  placed  on  the  cross, 
I.  N.  K.  I.,  representing  Jesus  Nazarenus,  Re.c  Jadceorum,  were  used  by  the  Rosi- 
crucians as  the  initials  of  their  Hermetic  Secrets  —  Igne  Natura  Renovator 
Integra  —  "  By  fire,  Nature  is  perfectly  renewed."  They  also  adopted  thern  to 
express  the  names  of  their  three  elementary  principles,  "Salt,  Sulphur,  and  Mer- 
cury, by  making  the  initials  of  the  sentence,  Igne  Nitrum  Moris  Invenitw- 

2  Story  of  Hacon's  Life,  p.  17. 


264  FBA  NCIS  BA  CON 

original  germ  of  the  New  Atlantis;  the  idea  being  transferred 
from  statecraft  to  nature.  It  is,  therefore,  possible  that  Fran- 
cis Bacon,  whose  admiration  and  reverence  for  his  father  is  very 
perceptible,  may  have  considered  that  the  foundation-stone  of 
his  Solomon's  House  was  laid  by  Sir  Nicholas.  Nowhere  can  we 
find  irrefutable  statements  or  proofs  that  this  society  had  any 
earlier  history.  The  professed  records  of  its  antiquity  seem,  like 
the  similar  records  of  the  Bosicruciaus,  to  be  fictitious,  mere 
shams,  which  cannot  pass  current  amongst  initiated  readers; 
playing  upon  words,  intended  to  convey  to  some  members  a 
knowledge  or  reminder  of  their  true  origin,  whilst  veiling  it  from 
the  profane  vulgar. 

The  object  of  this  concealment  was  probably  the  same  as  with 
the  greater  mysteries  of  the  Rosicrucians,  and  two-fold.  It 
enabled  the  society  to  work  more  freely,  and  unsuspected  of  dan- 
gerous or  reforming  aims.  It  also  bestowed  upon  the  fraternity 
a  fictitious  dignity  and  importance,  by  the  glamour  shed  over  its 
ceremonies  of  a  supposed  "  antiquity,"  which,  as  Bacon  shows, 
men  are  prone  to  adore;  for  in  history,  as  in  other  matters,  we 
often  see  "  'tis  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view. "  More- 
over, Freemasonry  frequently  lay  under  the  charge  of  irreligion, 
not  always  without  cause.  Yet  the  goodness  of  the  institution 
should  not  be  rashly  maligned  because  of  the  wickedness  or 
weakness  of  some  of  its  members,  and  its  "  authorities  "  come 
forward  to  defend  it  from  this  charge. 

"  Masonry  is  not  an  irreligious  institution,  but  it  assumes  no 
special  dogmatic  form;  it  demands  at  the  hands  of  its  candidates 
a  sincere  and  honest  belief  in  a  Creative  Being,  ever  attentive  to 
the  honourable  aspirations  of  those  who  seek  Him  in  spirit  and 
in  truth,  and  it  rejects  with  scorn  those  who  would  degrade  the 
Contriver  into  a  part  of  the  contrivances,  and  thus  would  set 
bounds  to  the  limitless  Author  of  all  Being. "  i 

The  estimation  in  which  the  Masons  hold  themselves  is  so 
amusing  to  non-Masons,  and  their  traditions  concerning  them- 
selves so  quaint,  that  we  cannot  refrain  from  quoting  a  few 
passages: 

1  Royal  Masonic  Cyclopaedia. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  265 

"  Freemasonry  is  undoubtedly  the  oldest  society  in  the  world, 
and  it  is  not  a  political,  but  a  religious  society,  strange  as  such 
an  assertion  must  be  to  the  uninitiated.  Before  letters  were  in- 
vented, the  only  means  of  teaching  divine  truths,  and  handiug 
down  divine  traditions,  was  by  symbols  and  signs.  In  that  way, 
before  the  deluge,  the  people  of  the  old  world  had  the  whole 
history  of  the  creation,  the  fall  of  our  first  parents,  etc.,  handed 
down  to  them  by  tradition  in  the  primitive  lodges,  the  serpent 
being  a  common  symbol  employed  for  the  purpose  then,  as  it  has 
been  since.  After  the  deluge,  the  ark  became  one  of  the  com- 
monest symbols,  and  the  history  of  that  event  was  thereby  taught 
to  the  initiated.  A  lodge  must  have  been  in  full  working  order 
on  the  plains  of  Shinar  during  the  lifetime  of  Noah:  for,  when 
the  dispersion  took  place,  lodges  of  a  similar  nature  were  estab- 
lished in  every  part  of  the  world,  though,  probably,  not  for  many 
years  after  the  settlement  of  the  emigrants  in  their  new  coun- 
tries. .  .  .  They  all,  however,  used  the  same  symbols,  and  it 
has  generally  been  admitted  by  scholars  that  they  had  one 
common  origin.  That  common  origin  teas  Freemasonry.  ..  .  Ac- 
cording to  the  traditions  of  our  venerable  society,  Enoch  toas  a 
very  eminent  Mason,  and  preserved  the  true  name  of  God,  which 
the  Jews  subsequently  lost.  The  descendants  of  Abraham 
write  it  Jao;  in  the  mysteries  it  was  Oin,  but  most  commonly 
expressed  in  a  triliteral  form,  Aum,  as  we  learn  from  Wilkins' 
notes  on  Bhagvat  Veta.  Both  in  the  genuine  and  spurious 
lodges  the  doctrine  of  a  trinity  in  unity  was  taught. 

"  The  Mysteries,  or  spurious  Masonic  rites,  were  introduced 
into  India  by  Brahma;  into  Egypt  by  Thoth;  into  China  and 
Japan  by  Buddha;  into  Persia  by  Zeradusht,  i.  e.,  Zoroaster;  into 
Greece  by  Melampus,  according  to  Herodotus,  ii.  4,  or  by  Cad- 
mus, according  to  Epiphanius;  into  Boetia  by  Prometheus;  into 
Samothrace  by  Dardanus;  into  Crete  by  Minos;  into  Athens  by 
Erectheus;  into  Thrace  by  Orpheus;  into  Italy  by  Pelasgis;  into 
Gaul  and  Britain  by  Gomer;  into  Scandinavia  by  Odin;  into 
Mexico  by  Vitziphtzti  (Purch.  viii.  10);  and  into  Peru  by  Manco 
Capac."  ! 

There  is  no  date  to  the  little  tract  at  the  British  Museum  from 
which  these  extracts  are  made,  but  it  seems  to  be  of  recent  pro- 
duction, and  continues  throughout  in  the  same  strain,  assuming 
that  because  ancient  symbols  are  introduced  into  Masonic  lan- 


i  Freemasonry:  An  Address.  Bro,  J.  Milner,  M.  A.,  F.  R.  G.  S.  I>ond.:  Sirnp- 
tin,  Marshall  &  Co. 


266  FRANCIS  BA  CON 

guage  and  ceremonies,  therefore  Masonry  is  of  extremest  anti- 
quity. 

This  same  line  of  argument  is  adopted  in  many  books  which 
seem  to  be  of  Freemasou  extraction,  aud  iu  some  of  the 
modern  anti-Christian  works  on  Buddhism  and  "  Theosophy. " 
These  go  farther  still,  maintaining  not  only  the  superior  antiq- 
uity, but  the  superior  beauty  and  value  of  the  religions  of  India 
and  Arabia,  which,  well  suited  as  they  doubtless  were  to  the 
rude  or  ignorant  minds  which  they  were  to  impress,  can  only  be 
regarded  by  Christians  as  gropings  before  daylight,  or  as  the 
altars  erected  by  ignorant  but  well-meaning  worshippers  of  the 
unknown  God. 

In  the  ancient  mysteries,  all  sorts  of  uncomfortable  methods 
were  resorted  to  in  order  to  test  the  nerves  and  constancy  of  the 
initiate.  He  was  made  suddenly  to  see  great  lights  which  were 
as  suddenly  eclipsed,  leaving  him  plunged  in  total  darkness. 
Terrible  sounds  and  sights  were  in  succession  forced  upon  him. 
Thunder  and  lightning,  visions  of  hideous  monsters  and  horri- 
ble objectswere  designed  to  fill  him  with  awe  and  consternation. 
Finally  he  was  restored  to  daylight,  and  to  a  delightful  calm  in 
a  lovely  garden,  where  music  and  dancing  revived  his  spirits, 
and,  perhaps,  charmed  him  the  more  by  reason  of  all  the  horrors 
to  which  he  had  been  subjected.  It  seems  to  have  been  held  as 
a  crime,  punishable  only  by  death,  for  a  man  to  reveal  what  he 
had  seen  in  these  mysteries,  which  for  ages  were  kept  secret. 
But,  as  with  the  somewhat  similar  ordeals  which  are  said  to  be 
imposed  upon  Masonic  initiates,  the  secrets  which  now  seem  to 
us  foolish,  and  almost  cruel,  have  leaked  out  by  some  means  or 
another.  In  the  present  day  such  things  appear  to  be  anachron- 
isms, and  profane  rather  than  impressive.  Nevertheless,  they 
would,  doubtless,  have  an  effect  on  weak  nerves,  and  may  pos- 
sibly aid  in  deterring  the  lower  orders  of  initiates  from  revealing 
these  secrets,  or  others  of  greater  importance. 

In  all  cases  initiation  represents  death,  and  a  renaissance  or 
renovation,  a  new  birth,  not  a  resurrection  from  the  dead.  "  In 
the  British  mysteries,  the  noviciate  passed  the  River  of  Death  in 
the  boat  of  Garanhir,  the  Charon  of  antiquity  (the  boat  typified 


AND  HIS  SECBET  SOCIETY.  267 

the  corporal  body) ;  and  before  he  could  be  admitted  to  this 
privilege,  it  was  requisite  that  he  should  be  mystically  buried, 
as  well  as  mystically  dead,  which  is  implied  in  the  ancient  Greek 
formulary,  '  I  was  covered  in  the  bed,'  the  body  being  a  sort  of 
grave  or  bed  of  the  spirit. "  l  With  the  Freemasons,  this  sym- 
bolic death  and  burial  is  or  was  initiated  by  the  ceremony  of 
putting  the  noviciate  into  a  coffin  and  covering  him  with  a  pall. 
We  have  heard,  but  cannot  answer  for  the  fact,  of  a  young  man 
who  fainted  under  this  "  nerve  test."  It  is  hard  to  conceive 
that  such  things  should  be  done  in  civilised  countries  at  the 
present  hour,  and  if  it  be  true  that  they  are  yet  practiced,  it 
must  be  that  vows  taken  by  the  initiates  bind  them  to  continue 
a  system  which,  at  its  first  invention,  had  some  use  in  conveying 
certain  instruction  to  very  rude  minds,  incapable  of  otherwise 
receiving  it. 

The  earliest  Rosicrucian  documents  do  not  enforce  the  special 
doctrines  of  any  church.  The  later  documents  are,  however, 
professedly  Christian.  We  know  that  Bacon  ''was  religious; 
.  .  .  well  able  to  render  a  reason  of  the  hope  which  was  in  him;  " 
that  he  conformed  to  the  ordinances  of  the  Christian  religion;2 
that  he  died  in  the  communion  of  the  Church  of  England;  and 
the  thought  suggests  itself  that,  during  the  period  of  his  life 
when  he  was  "  running  through  the  whole  round  "  of  the 
ancient  philosophies  (a  terrible  and  unsettling  process  to  young, 
excitable  minds)  —  at  that  time,  when  his  ardent  soul  was 
striving  after  definite  truth,  and  trying  to  free  itself  from  the 
clouds  of  error,  bigotry,  and  superstition  which  obscured  it  —  he 
may  have  found  himself,  like  Malvolio,  "  more  puzzled  than  the 
Egyptians  in  their  fog. "  Besides  this,  the  quarrels  and  divission 
on  religious  questions  sorely  disturbed  him.  He  could  not 
believe  in  the  religion  of  men  who  hated  each  other,  who  would 
"  dash  the  first  table  against  the  second,  and  who  would  so  act 
as  Christians  as  to  make  us  forget  that  they  are  men."    Such 


1  The  Bool-  of  God,  vol.  ii.  p.   125,  quoting  from  Davies'  Mytholoqy  of  llie 
Druids,  p.  392. 

2  Life  of  Bacon,  by  his  Chaplain  and  Secretary,  p.  14.     See  ante,  Bacon's 
character, 


268  FRANCIS  BACON 

divisions,  he  says,  "  were  evils  unknown  to  the  heathen;  "  yet  he 
lived  in  the  very  midst  of  such  divisions.  He  was  eleven  years 
old  at  the  time  of  the  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  when  60,000 
Huguenots  or  Protestants  were  butchered  by  the  order  of 
Charles  IX.  and  his  mother,  the  victims  including  Admiral  de 
Coligny,  one  of  the  most  virtuous  men  that  France  possessed, 
and  the  mainstay  of  the  Protestant  cause.  He  was  a  child 
when  the  tyranny  and  barbarity  of  the  Inquisition  was  in  full 
force,  and  for  thirty-one  years  of  his  life  he  was  witness  to  the 
scenes  of  intolerable  cruelty  and  iniquity  which  were  perpetrated 
under  the  name  of  religion  by  the  Spanish  Tiberius,  Philip  II., 
not  only  in  his  own  country  and  amongst  the  unhappy  Moors, 
but,  almost  worse,  in  Flanders  or  the  Netherlands,  where  the 
miserable  Protestants,  at  first  patient  under  the  extravagant 
oppression  to  which  they  were  subjected,  at  last  rebelled,  and, 
at  the  sight  of  the  tribunals  of  the  Inquisition  erected  in  their 
principal  cities,  forgot  their  own  weakness,  and,  impelled  by 
rage  and  fury,  pulled  down  churches,  subverted  altars,  and 
obliged  the  clergy  to  fly.  The  atrocities  which  followed,  the 
execrable  cruelties  which  were  committed,  and  the  detestation  of 
the  papists  which  was  inspired  in  the  formerly  peaceable 
Flemings,  are  matters  of  history.  No  one  will  read  Motley's 
graphic  narrative  of  the  events  of  this  time,  and  marvel  that  a 
thoughtful  man,  witnessing  such  scenes,  should  be  led  to  doubt 
if  religion,  if  Christianity,  in  whose  name  such  deeds  of  darkness 
were  performed,  could  be  a  true  thing  ? 

In  the  Essay  of  Unity,  Bacon  speaks  of  "  Lucretius,  the  poet, 
who,  when  he  beheld  the  act  of  Agamemnon,  that  could  endure 
the  sacrificing  of  his  own  daughter,  exclaimed:  '  Could  religion 
prompt  to  deeds  so  dreadful? '  What  would  he  have  said  if  he 
had  known  of  the  massacre  in  France,  or  the  powder  treason  in 
England?  He  would  have  been  seven  times  more  epicure  and 
atheist  than  he  was. " 

But  Bacon  seems  to  have  said  to  himself:  "  Since  men  thus 
quarrel  over  their  religious  opinions,  I  will  seek  for  sbme  ground 
upon  which  all  mankind  may  meet  in  common  consent  and  har- 
mony.   AH  men  who  have  any  claim  to  intelligence  and  goodness 


AND  HIS  SECHET  SOCIETY.  269 

acknowledge  the  existence  of  a  God,  an  all-wise,  all-powerful 
Being,  to  whom  we  must  render  an  account  of  ourselves.  Let 
us,  then,  leave  quarrelling  and  controversies,  and  meet  as  men 
and  brethren  on  this  wide  platform  of  belief  in  a  Grod,  and  desire 
to  benefit  each  other. "  Some  such  sentiment  seems  certainly  to 
have  been  in  the  mind  of  the  founder  of  Masonry,  and,  perhaps, 
the  method  adopted  in  rude  times  for  enlisting  the  sympathies 
of  the  majority  of  ignorant  but  intelligent  persons  of  various 
nationalities  and  creeds  was  the  best  that  could  be  devised. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  to  the  great  society  of  the  Freemasons 
we  owe  a  vast  debt  of  gratitude,  for  the  many  humanitarian 
works  which  they  have  inaugurated;  for  the  many  "  fair  houses, " 
for  purposes  of  charity  and  education,  which  they  have  reared; 
for  many  good  lessons  in  morality  and  self-control  which  they 
have  systematically  endeavoured  to  teach.  And  yet,  although 
the  society  was  founded  expressly  to  uphold  order,  and  respect 
for  authority,  as  well  as  to  promote  learning  and  works  of  charity; 
though  its  members  were  to  consist  of  "  men  who  are  not  only 
true  patriots  and  loyal  subjects,  but  the  patrons  of  science  and  the 
friends  of  all  mankind,"  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  Bacon 
found  the  rules  of  the  society,  and  the  doctrines  of  pure  Deism, 
insufficient  to  ensure  either  patriotism  or  loyalty;  insufficient  to 
ensure  the  attainment  of  the  highest  truth,  or  of  the  greatest 
good  to  the  greatest  number. 

It  is  clear  that  he  himself  could  not  endure  to  remain  in  this 
low  ground,  and  he  mounted,  as  we  have  seen,  into  the  clearest 
and  sublimest  heights  to  which  the  human  intelligence  or  the 
human  spirit  is  permitted  to  penetrate.  Not  so  all  his  followers, 
if  the  scanty  gleanings  which  we  have  been  able  to  make  in  this 
field  are  of  any  value.  There  is  reason  to  think  that  more  than 
once  the  harmony  of  the  Masonic  brethren  has  been  broken; 
selfishness,  ambition,  and  other  ills  which  frail  humanity  is  heir 
to,  and  which  will  not  be  checked  by  any  code  of  human  laws, 
by  morality,  however  philosophical;  by  philanthropy,  however 
well  meaning,  seem  to  have  crept  in,  creating  quarrels  and  rup- 
tures, and,  doubtless,  in  every  case,  fresh  divergence  from  the 
original  scheme. 


270  FRANCIS  BACON 

If  we  read  aright  some  ambiguous  narratives  in  books  which, 
are  nothing  if  not  mystical,  and  which  bear  marks  of  being  of 
Masonic  origin,  there  have  been,  not  only  quarrels,  but  faithless 
members  in  the  society,  who,  instead  of  "  handing  down  the 
lamp  "  which  had  been  consigned  to  their  charge  —  instead  of 
merely  preserving  or  publishing,  in  due  season,  some  work,  not 
their  own,  have  clung  to  it,  claimed  it,  and  endeavoured  to  profit  by 
it.  Is  that  true,  which  such  hints  in  books,  endorsed  by  verbal 
information,  incline  us  to  believe,  namely,  that  the  Masons  are 
no  longer  all  "  true  patriots  and  loyal  subjects,"  and  that,  in 
some  countries,  at  least,  "  mutual  toleration  in  matters  of  specu- 
lative opinion  and  belief  "  is  no  longer  one  of  the  "  valuable 
characteristics  of  thecraft"?  These,  joining  to  their  disrespectfor 
religion  the  kindred  disrespect  for  any  authority  except  their 
own,  are  applying  themselves  to  degrade,  if  possible  to  demol- 
ish, all  forms  of  church  worship,  defacing  the  Beauty  of  Holiness, 
reducing  Christianity  to  Humauitarianism,  and  landing  their 
followers  in  a  cold  agnosticism,  or  a  worse  spirit  of  antagonism 
to  Christianity. 

The  causes  of  atheism  are,  Bacon  says,  "  divisions  in  religion, 
scandal  of  priests,  custom  of  profane  scoffing  in  holy  matters, 
which  doth  little  by  little  deface  the  reverence  of  religion ;  and, 
lastly,  learned  times  with  peace  and  prosperity;  for  troubles  and 
adversities  do  more  bow  men's  minds  to  religion.  They  that 
deny  a  God,  destroy  man's  nobility;  for  certainly  man  is  of  kin  to 
the  beasts  by  his  body ;  and  if  he  be  not  of  kin  to  God  by  his 
spirit  he  is  a  base  and  ignoble  creature.  It  destroys,  likewise, 
magnanimity  and  the  raising  of  human  nature,  .  .  .  and  as  athe- 
ism is  in  all  respects  hateful,  so  in  this,  that  it  depriveth  human 
nature  of  the  means  to  exalt  itself  above  human  frailty."1 
Bacon's  axiom,  "  Thought  is  free,"  expressed  something  very 
different  from  irreverent  license  of  thought ;  neither  did  he  advo- 
cate the  idea  that  "  the  raising  of  human  nature  "  was  to  be 
achieved  by  disregard  of  the  Powers  that  be.  The  majority  of 
right-minded  and  loyal  Masons  are,  doubtless,  of  his  opinion,  and 

1  Essay  Of  Atheism, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  271 

it  is  suggested  that  the  large  and  increasing  number  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Rose-Croix  degree  may  be  a  tacit  protest  against  the 
irreligious  tendencies  of  some  of  the  other  lodges. l  It  is  possi- 
ble that  Bacon  perceived  the  beginnings  of  such  deviations  as 
have  been  indicated,  and  that  his  foresight  as  to  the  ultimate 
issue  caused  him  to  make  the  Rosy  Cross  the  highest  and  most 
secret  degree,  the  members  forming  a  community  of  the  ablest 
and  most  earnest  and  influential  Christians  in  the  Masonic  ranks. 

Since  the  statements  and  opinions  of  Masonic  writers  differ,  it 
is,  of  course,  impossible  for  a  non-Mason  to  obtain  information 
so  accurate  as  to  be  incapable  of  contradiction  or  refutation. 
These  remarks,  therefore,  are  merely  intended  to  form  a  basis 
for  further  inquiries  and  researches.  No  one  book  must  be  taken 
as  an  absolute  authority;  for  if  anything  is  made  plain  to  the 
uninitiated  student  of  Masonic  literature,  it  is  that  comparatively 
few  Masons  know  much  about  the  true  origin  and  aims  of  their 
own  society.  Books  ostensibly  published  for  the  purpose  of  giv- 
ing information  consist,  for  the  most  part,  of  names  of  persons 
and  lodges,  of  places  and  orders,  with  very  scanty  notices  on  any 
subject  which  will  not  be  found  discussed  in  ordinary  cyclopaedias. 
The  Masonic  books  are  palpably  constructed  so  as  to  disclose 
nothing  of  any  value ;  some  contradict  others,  and  doubtless  they 
are  only  intended  to  be  thoroughly  useful  to  those  who  have 
other  and  verbal  information  imparted  to  them. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  most  helpful  plan  which  can 
be  adopted  seems  to  be  to  ignore  recent  utterances,  and  to  give 
transcripts  from  a  book  whose  ninth  edition  was  published  nearly 
a  hundred  years  ago,  and  which  is  still  continually  referred  to 
in  the  chief  Masonic  manuals.  The  subject  is  "  The  Idea  of 
Masonry,"2  its  tenets,  objects,  and  practical  works,  the  place 


1  Tn  1881  there  were  eighty-five  Rose  Croix  chapters  on  the  roll,  and  the 
members  numbered  nearly  4,000. 

2  "  Illustrations  of  Masonry,"  by  Wm.  Preston,  Past  Master  of  the  Lo^ge  of 
Antiquity,  9th  edn.,  with  considerable  additions.  London:  Wilkie,  57  Paternos- 
ter Row,  1796.  In  the  volume  before  us  (carefully  preserved  as  it  has  been) 
abundant  "marks"  of  sis  or  seven  different  kinds  assure  us  that  the  publishers 
and  printers — yes,  and  the  readers  themselves  —  have  wished  to  draw  especial 
attention  to  it  as  a  work  of  importance  to  their  society. 


272  FBANC1S  BACON 

where  aud  the  person  by  whom  it  was  first  introduced  into 
England.  The  reader  will  judge  for  himself  as  to  how  much  or 
how  little  of  the  historical  part  he  will  credit;  hut  he  may  ob- 
serve that  this  author  tells  us  nothing  of  Masonic  lodges  before 
the  deluge,  or  on  the  plains  of  Shinar. 

The  Illustrations  are  iu  six  "  books, "  of  which  the  first  dis- 
plays the  excellence  of  Masonry,  and  deals  with  reflections  on 
the  symmetry  and  proportion  perceptible  in  the  works  of  nature, 
and  on  the  harmony  and  affection  amongst  other  species  of 
things. 

"  Whoever  attentively  observes  the  objects  which  surround 
him,  will  find  abundant  reason  to  admire  the  works  of  nature, 
and  to  adore  the  Beiug  who  directs  such  wonderful  operations. 
He  will  be  convinced  that  infinite  wisdom  could  alone  design, 
and  infinite  power  finish,  such  amazing  works.  .  .  .  Besides  the 
symmetry,  good  order,  and  proportion  which  appear  in  all  the 
works  of  creation,  something  farther  attracts  the  reflecting  mind 
and  draws  its  attention  nearer  to  the  Divinity — the  universal 
harmony  and  affection  among  the  different  species  of  beings  of 
every  rank  and  denomination.  These  are  the  cements  of  the 
rational  ivorld,  and  by  these  alone  it  subsists.  When  they  cease 
nature  must  be  dissolved,  and  man,  the  image  of  his  Maker,  and 
the  chief  of  His  works,  be  overwhelmed  in  the  general  chaos. " 

As  to  the  origin  of  Masonry,  we  are  told  that  we  may  trace  its 
foundations  from  the  beginning  of  the  world.  "  Ever  since  sym- 
metry began  and  harmony  displayed  her  charms,  our  order  has 
a  being. "  It  almost  seems  as  if  the  idea  of  the  extreme  antiq- 
uity of  the  order  was  encouraged  by  the  frequent  use  of  quibbles 
on  the  word  order.  Bacon's  aim  was  to  reduce  knowledge  and  all 
else  to  a  method,  or  order,  for  "  order  is  heaven's  first  law." 
In  the  dark  and  rude  ages  of  the  world  knowledge  was  with- 
held from  our  forefathers  incapable  of  receiving  it.  1  Masonry 
then  diffused  its  influence,  science  was  gradually  unveiled,  arts 
arose,  civilization  took  place,  and  the  progress  of  knowledge 
and  philosophy  gradually  dispelled  the  gloom  of  ignorance  2  and 
barbarism. 

1  Compare  with  Preston's  Illustrations  of  Masonry,  section  iii,  Bacon's  con- 
cluding paragraphs  in  his  preface  to  the  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients. 

2  "  There  is  no  darkness  but  it/noi-ance."    ( Twelfth  Wight,  iv.  2.) 


AND  HIS  SECBET  SOCIETY.  273 

Next  we  read  of  the  advantages  of  secresy,  and  of  a  system  of 
secret  signs  carefully  preserved  among  the  fraternity.  A  uni- 
versal language  is  thus  formed,  and  contributes  to  the  union,  in 
an  indissoluble  bond  of  affection  and  mutual  interest,  of  men  of 
the  most  opposite  tenets,  of  the  most  distant  countries,  and  of 
the  most  contrary  opinions.  The  Chinese,  the  wild  Arab,  the 
American  savage,  will  embrace  a  brother  Briton,  and  will  find  a 
stronger  obligation  than  even  the  common  tie  of  humanity  to 
induce  him  to  kind  and  friendly  offices. 

»  As  all  religions  teach  morality,  if  a  brother  is  found  to  act 
the  part  of  a  truly  moral  man  his  private  speculative  opinions 
are  left  to  God  and  himself." 

"  Masonry,"  we  are  told,  is  a  term  which  expresses  a  double 
meaning,  the  work,  that  is,  and  the  abstract  ideas  of  which  that 
work  is  the  symbol  or  type.  Masonry  passes  under  two  denom- 
inations, operative  and  speculative. 

"  Bv  the  former  we  allude  to  a  proper  application  of  the  use- 
ful rules  of  architecture,  whence  a  structure  derives  figure, 
strength,  and  beauty,  and  whence  result  a  due  proportion  and  a 
inst  correspondence  in  all  its  parts.  By  the  latter  we  learn  to 
subdue  the  passions,  act  upon  the  square,  keep  a  tongue  ot  good 
report,  maintain  secresy,  and  practice  charity. 

<<  Speculative  Masonry  is  so  far  interwoven  with  religion  as  to 
lav  us  under  the  strongest  obligations  to  pay  that  rational  hom- 
age to  the  Deity  which  at  once  constitutes  our  duty  and  our 
happiness.  It  leads  the  contemplative  to  review  with  reverence 
and  admiration  the  glorious  works  of  creation,  and  inspires 
them  with  the  most  lofty  ideas  of  the  perfections  of  the  divine 

Cl"»  Operative  Masonry  furnishes  us,  indeed,  with  dwellings  and 
sheltering  edifices,  and  demonstrates  how  much  can  be  done  tor 
the  benefit  of  man  by  science  and  industry.  Yet  the  lapse  of 
time  and  the  ruthless  hand  of  ignorance,  and  the  devastations 
of  tear  have  laid  waste  and  destroyed  many  valuable  monuments 
of  antiquity  on  which  the  utmost  exertions  of  human  genius  have 
been  employed.  Even  the  Temple  of  Solomon  so  spacious  and 
magnificent,  and  constructed  by  so  many  celebrated  artists, 
escaped  not  the  unsparing  ravages  of  barbaric  force. 

We  are  arrested  by  the  very  Baconian  and  Shakespearian 


274  FRANCIS  BACON 

sentiments,  and  the  combination  of  words  in  which  they  are 
expressed. 

"  Not  marble,  nor  the  gilded  monuments 
Of  princes,  shall  outlive  this  powerful  rhyme ; 

When  wasteful  war  shall  statues  overturn, 

And  broils  root  out  the  work  of  masonry, 

Nor  Mars  his  sword,  nor  war's  quick  fire  shall  bum 

The  living  record  of  your  memory.  1 

"  The  monuments  of  wit  survive  the  monuments  of  power," 
etc.  2 

"  We  see,  then,  how  far  the  monuments  of  wit  and  learning 
are  more  durable  than  the  monuments  of  power  or  of  the  bands. 
For  have  not  tbe  verses  of  Homer  continued  twenty-five  hundred 
years  or  more,  without  the  loss  of  a  syllable  or  letter;  during 
which  time  infinite  palaces,  temples,  castles,  cities,  have  been 
decayed  and  demolished.  .  .  .  But  tbe  images  of  men's  wits  and 
knowledges  remain  in  books,  exempted  from  the  wrong  of  time, 
and  capable  of  perpetual  renovation. " 3 

Throughout  the  Masonic  books  the  reader  is  led  to  suppose 
that  the  survival  and  transmission  of  Freemasonry  is  the  mat- 
ter of  extremest  importance.  Read,  however,  by  the  light  of 
Bacon,  we  perceive  that  the  whole  object  is  to  get  possession  of 
the  rude  and  ignorant,  and,  by  working  upon  their  innate  vanity — 
or  shall  we  say  their  self-respect? — to  draw  them  on  to  works  of 
mutual  benefit,  and  to  raise  them  by  gentle  stages  up  the  steps 
of  knowledge  and  morality  under  the  impression  that  their  supe- 
riority consists  chiefly  in  the  possession  of  some  great  and 
mysterious  secret.  The  lower  orders  are  indeed  the  stepping* 
stones  for  the  cleverer  and  more  helpful  higher  initiates.  The 
subscriptions  of  the  vast  number  of  members  are  of  immense 
value  in  promoting  many  useful  works,  which,  without  some  such 
organisation,  would  never  have  been  attempted;  and  doubtless 
the  members  of  every  degree  share  in  the  pleasure  and  pride 

1  Sonnet  lv.    Compare  sonnets  lxxxi,  lxiv,  lxv,  cvii. 

2  Device  of  Philantia,  Hermit's  Sp. 

3  Advt.  of  L.  i. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  275 

which  Freemasons  evidently  take  in  the  numerous  charitable 
works  which  they  have  inaugurated  and  liberally  supported. 
Yet  it  is  much  to  be  doubted  if  the  lower  orders  of  Masons 
either  guess  at  their  own  origin,  or  perceive  that  the  true  aim 
of  thesoeietyistoraise  the  level  of  patriotism  and  morality  until 
the  former  may  fulfil  Heaven's  first  law  of  universal  order  and 
harmonious  obedience  to  earthly  authority,  and  the  latter  shall 
lift  man  above  the  flats  of  mere  worldly  wisdom  and  morality 
to  the  sublime  heights  of  divinity  or  religion,  to  heights,  in- 
deed, to  which  probably  many  Freemasons  do  not  aspire,  but  are 
content  to  live  in  the  valley. 

"  The  attentive  ear,"  says  the  Masonic  Manual,  "  receives  the 
soul  from  the  instructive  tongue,  and  the  sacred  mysteries  are 
safely  lodged  in  the  repository  of  faithful  breasts.  Tools  and 
implements  the  most  expressive!  [sic]  are  selected  by  the  fra- 
ternity, to  imprint  on  the  memory  serious  truths ;  and  thus  the 
excellent  tenets  of  the  institution  are  transmitted  unimpaired, 
under  circumstances  precarious  and  adverse,  through  a  succes- 
sion of  ages." 

The  fraternity  is  said  to  consist  of  three  classes,  each  with 
distinct  privileges.  Honour  and  probity  are  recommendations 
to  the  first  class.  Diligence,  assiduity,  and  application  are 
qualifications  for  the  second  class,  in  which  is  given  an  accurate 
elucidation  of  science,  both  in  theory  and  practice.  The  third 
class  is  restricted  to  a  selected  few,  whom  truth  and  fidelity  have 
distinguished,  whom  years  and  experience  have  improved,  and 
whom  merit  and  abilities  have  entitled  to  preferment.  We 
should  expect  this  class  to  be  initiated  into  some  of  the  mysteries 
of  the  printing-house,  and  of  the  collating-room,  and  the 
ciphers,  for,  in  the  next  section,  the  author  enters  into  a  dis- 
cussion of  the  objections  raised  to  the  secrets  of  Masonry,  which, 
he  says,  are  not  mere  trivialities,  but  "  the  keys  to  our  treasure. " 
He  exhorts  his  readers  not  to  regard  the  mysteries  or  the  cere- 
monials of  the  order  as  nominal  and  frivolous.  Those  who 
hurry 'through  the  degrees  or  stages,  without  considering  the 
steps  which  they  pursue,  or  without  possessing  a  single  qualifica- 
tion for  the  duties  which  they  undertake,  are  doing  a  positive 


276  FRAXCIS  BACON 

injury  to  the  society  which  they  profess  to  aid,  and  deriving  no 
benefit  themselves ;  for  "  the  substance  is  lost  in  the  shadow. " 

Then  comes  an  explanation  of  some  of  the  causes  why 
Masons  have,  from  time  to  time,  brought  upon  themselves  dis- 
credit and  censure.  The  very  "  variety  of  members  of  which 
the  society  of  Masons  is  composed,  and  the  small  number  who 
are  really  conversant  with  the  tenets  of  the  institution,"  vender 
it  almost  certain  that  some  will  transgress,  and  prove  faithless 
to  their  calling.  When  mild  endeavours  to  reform  such  persons 
are  fruitless,  they  are  expelled  the  lodge,  as  unfit  members  of 
the  society.  But  nowise  man  will  condemn  a  whole  community 
on  account  of  the  errors  of  a  few  individuals.  "  Friendship  and 
social  delights  cannot  be  the  object  of  reproach,  nor  can  that 
wisdom  which  hoary  time  has  sanctified  be  subject  to  ridicule. 
Whoever  attempts  to  censure  what  he  does  not  comprehend,  degrades 
himself;  and  the  generous  heart  will  always  be  led  to  pity  the  mis- 
takes of  such  ignorant  presumption."  In  the  "  charge,  at  the 
initiation  into  the  first  degree, "  the  initiate  is  enjoined  never 
to  suffer  his  zeal  for  the  institution,  however  laudable,  to  lead 
him  into  argument  with  those  who  may  ridicule  it;  "  but  rather 
extend  your  pity  toward  all  who,  through  ignorance,  contemn 
what  they  never  had  an  opportunity  to  comprehend."  l 

Charity  is  next  extolled  as  the  chief  of  every  social  virtue, 
and  the  distinguishing  characteristic  of  the  order,  and  of  the 
Deity  himself.  2 

"  The  bounds  of  the  greatest  nation,  or  the  most  extensive 
empire,  cannot  circumscribe  it.  It  is  a  Godlike  disposition,  .  . 
since  a  mutual  chain  of  dependence  subsists  throughout  the 
animal  creation.  The  whole  human  species  are,  therefore, 
proper  objects  of  charity. " 

Further  :-all  kinds  of  men  may,  in  their  different  spheres,  prove 
useful ;  but  the  officers  of  a  lodge  in  Freemasonry  ought  to  be 
principally  restricted  to  those  "  whose  early  years  have  been  dedi- 
cated to  literary  pursuits,  or  whose  circumstances  and  situation  in 

1  "Disparage  not  tine  faith  thou  Just  not  know."    (Midsummer  Night's  Dream  ) 

2  See  Merchant  of  Venice,  iv.  1,  193-7. 


AND  HIS  SECBET  SOCIETY.  277 

life  render  them  independent."  They  should  also  be  men  of 
superior  prudence  and  good  address,  with  a  tranquil,  well- 
cultivated  mind  and  retentive  memory.  But  "  he  who  wishes  to 
teach,  mast  be  content  to  learn."  A  self-sufficient,  conceited 
person,  however  able,  can,  therefore,  never  be  a  good  Mason. 
"  Arrogance  and  presumption  appear  not  on  the  one  hand,  or 
diffidence  and  inability  on  the  other,  but  all  unite  in  the  same 
plan." 

The  second  book  of  Masonry  gives  an  illustration  of  the  cere- 
monies connected  with  the  opening  and  closing  of  a  lodge,  in 
which  account  we  seem  to  see  a  reflection  of  Bacou's  cogitations 
on  the  means  of  ensuring  help  from  worthy  and  capable  men, 
who  should  prepare  to  guard  the  entrances  and  approaches  to 
the  Temple  of  Wisdom.  In  the  first  sentence  note  the  use  of  his 
Promus  entry,  "  Avenues."  x 

"  Our  care  is  first  directed  to  the  external  avenues  of  the  lodge, 
and  the  proper  officers,  whose  province  it  is  to  discharge  that 
duty,  execute  the  trust  with  fidelity."  2 

By  certain  mystic  forms  these  officers  intimate  that  it  is  safe 
for  the  ceremonies  to  proceed,  or  they  detect  impostors  and 
unfit  persons  who  must  be  excluded.  The  ceremonies  are  relig- 
ious, and  intended  not  only  to  remind  the  master  and  brethren 
of  their  many  duties,  but  also  to  inculcate  a  reverential  awe  of 
the  Deity,  that  "  the  eye  may  be  fixed  on  that  object  from  whose 
radiant  beams  light  only  can  be  derived." 

At  the  closing  of  the  lodge,  "  each  brother  faithfully  locks  up 
the  treasure  which  he  has  acquired  in  his  own  repository,  and, 
pleased  with  his  own  reward,  retires  to  enjoy  and  disseminate 
among  the  private  circle  of  his  friends  the  fruits  of  his  labour 
and  industry  in  the  lodge."  This  paragraph  seems  to  imply 
that  the  brethren  adopted  Bacon's  advice  regarding  the  taking 
of  notes,  and  that  they  habitually  stored  up  their  newly  gained 
treasures  of  learning  in  order  to  add  to  the  common  fund,  and 

1  Promus,  1432;  and  conip.  Montaigne  Ess.  "  To  Learn  to  Die"— Ed.  Hazlitt, 
p.  76. 

2  Preston,  p.  33. 


278  FRANCIS  BACON 

to  distribute  them  at  a  later  period  for  the  benefit  of  the  world 
in  general. 

We  observe  amongst  other  peculiarities  in  Rosicrucian  books 
the  large  number  of  fly-leaves  at  one  or  both  ends.  These,  how- 
ever, in  the  old  volumes,  have  been  in  most  instances  cut  out. 
Only  one  explanation  of  this  singular  circumstance  seems  satis- 
factory, namely,  that  the  brethren,  by  Bacon's  original  instruc- 
tions, took  notes  of  all  that  they  heard  or  read,  and  that  these 
fly-leaves,  or  note-books,  were  thus  made  the  "  repositories  of 
treasure  stored  up, "  so  that  nothing  should  be  lost,  but  that 
ultimately  all  newly  acquired  learning  should  flow  into  the  com- 
mon treasury. 

"  No  brother  is  supplanted,  or  put  out  of  his  work,  if  he  be 
capable  of  filling  it.  All  meekly  receive  their  rewards  .  .  .  and 
never  desert  the  master  till  the  work  is  finished.  .  .  .  In  a  lodge 
Masons  meet  as  members  of  the  same  family,  and  representa- 
tives, for  the  time  being,  of  all  the  brethren  throughout  the 
world.  All  prejudices,  therefore,  on  account  of  religion,  coun- 
try, or  private  opinion,  are  removed." 

In  the  charge  delivered  at  the  closing  of  the  lodge,  the  Masons 
are  instructed  to  be  "  very  cautious  in  your  words  and  carriage, 
that  the  most  penetrating  stranger  mag  not  discover  or  find  out 
what  is  not  proper  to  be  intimated,  and,  if  necessary,  you  are  to 
waive  a  discourse,1  and  manage  it  prudently,  for  the  honour  of 
the  fraternity.  ...  If  a  stranger  apply  .  .  .  beware  of  giving 
him  any  secret  hints  of  knowledge. "  The  charge  ends  with 
renewed  exhortations  to  "  brotherly  love,  the  foundation  and 
cap-stone,  the  cement  and  glory  of  this  ancient  fraternity. " 

In  the  first  Masonic  "lecture,"  "virtue  is  painted  in  the 
most  beautiful  colours,''''  and  the  duties  of  morality  are  strictly 
enforced.  In  it  the  Masons  are  prepared  for  "  a  regular  advance- 
ment in  knowledge  and  philosophy,  and  these  are  imprinted  on 
the  memory  by  lively  and  sensible  images,  the  lecture  being  suited 
to  all  capacities,  and  necessary  to  be  known  by  every  person 
who  would  wish  to  rank  as  a  Mason. " 


1  This  injunction  is  excellently  complied  with,  and  is,  no  doubt,  a  chief  ob- 
struction to  non-Masons  in  the  attainment  of  information. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  279 

Unhappily  for  the  uninitiated,  the  author  can  annex  to  this 
remark  no  explanation  consistent  with  the  rules  of  Masonry,  hut 
refers  "  the  more  inquisitive  to  our  regular  assemblies  for  further 
■instruction.'"  So,  "  out  goes  the  candle,  and  we  are  left  dark- 
ling; "  yet  we  need  not  despair,  but  may  believe  that  by  a  due 
study  of  Bacon's  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil  (and  other  works  based 
upon  it),  his  Advancement  of  Learning,  and  his  emblematic  and 
metaphoric  language,  we  may  furnish  ourselves  with  all  the 
useful  knowledge  which  the  Masonic  initiates  will  gain  by  their 
lecture  on  the  colours  of  virtue,  the  advancement  of  philosophy, 
and  the  images  by  which  the  novices  are  instructed. 

Just  as  the  Rosicruciaus  in  The  New  Atlantis,  and  elsewhere, 
are  commanded  to  dispense  their  medicines  gratis,  so  Masons 
are  called  upon  solemnly  to  declare  themselves  uninfluenced  by 
mercenary  motives,  but  prompted  by  a  desire  for  knowledge,  and 
a  sincere  wish  of  being  serviceable  to  their  fellow-creatures. 

They  pledge  themselves  to  study  the  Bible,  to  consider  it  as 
the  unerring  standard  of  truth  and  justice,  and  to  regulate 
their  lives  according  to  its  divine  precepts.  The  three  great 
moral  duties  to  be  observed  are:  (1)  To  God,  by  reverence  and 
submission  to  His  Will;  (2)  To  your  neighbour,  by  "acting 
on  the  square,"  and  by  unselfishness  in  dealing  with  him; 
(3)  "  To  yourself,  by  avoiding  irregularity  and  intemperance, 
which  might  impair  your  faculties  and  debase  the  dignity  of  your 
profession." 

This  section  concludes  with  another  exhortation  to  secresy 
and  caution  in  recommending  new  initiates.  Next  we  come  to 
a  page  of  observations  on  the  origin  and  advantages  of  hiero- 
glyphical  instruction,  a  subject  which,  in  view  of  Bacon's  instruc- 
tions on  this  very  subject,  and  the  evidently  close  relation  which 
his  remarks  bear  to  the  illustrations  and  ornaments  of  the  books 
published  during  his  life,  and  (with  various  modifications)  from 
that  time  till  now,  possesses  for  .the  inquirer  a  strong  attraction 
and  interest. 

Since  nothing  can  be  more  noble  than  the  pursuit  of  virtue, 
nor  any  motive  more  alluring  than  the  practice  of  justice,  "  what 
instruction,"  we  are  asked,  "  can  be  more  beneficial  than  an 


280  FRANCIS  BACON 

accurate  elucidation  of  those  symbols  which  tend  to  embellish  and 
adorn  the  mind?  Everything  that  strikes  the  eye  more  immedi- 
ately engages  the  attention,  and  imprints  on  the  memory  serious 
and  solemn  truths.  Hence,  Masons  have  universally  adopted  the 
plan  of  inculcating  the  tenets  of  their  order  by  typical  figures  and 
allegorical' emblems,  to  prevent  their  mysteries  from  descending  to 
the  familiar  reach  of  inattentive  and  unprepared  novices,  from 
whom  they  might  not  receive  due  veneration.  It  is  well  known 
that  the  usages  and  customs  of  the  Masons  have  ever  corre- 
sponded with  those  of  the  ancient  Egyptians,  to  which  they 
bear  a  near  affinity.  These  philosophers,  unwilling  to  expose 
their  mysteries  to  vulgar  eyes,  concealed  their  particular  tenets 
and  principles  of  polity  under  hieroglyphical  figures,  and  ex- 
pressed their  notions  of  government  by  signs  and  symbols,  which 
they  communicated  to  their  Magi  alone,  who  were  bound  by  oath 
not  to  reveal  them.  Pythagoras  seems  to  have  established  his 
system  on  a  similar  plan,  and  many  orders  of  a  more  recent 
date  have  copied  the  example.  Every  character,  figure,  and 
emblem,  depicted  in  a  lodge,  has  a  moral  tendency,  and  tends  to 
inculcate  the  practice  of  virtue." 

Here,  as  will  be  seen  by  and  by,  when  we  come  to  emblems  and 
hieroglyphic  pictures,  Freemasons  are  again  adopting  Bacon's 
ideas  and  doctrines,  and  using  his  words,  though  their  charm  is 
lost  by  dilution  and  paraphrase.  No  addition  or  alteration  seems 
to  improve  either  his  phraseology  or  his  ideas;  usually  the  copyists 
limp  after  him  in  "  what  imitation  they  can  borrow;"  but  even 
where  they  most  craftily  prick  in,  or  transfer  to  their  own  work 
his  beauties  of  language  aud  quaint  conceits,  it  is  still  easy  to 
distinguish  the  original  from  the  imitation,  the  pearls  from  the 
beads,  and  at  least  one-third  of  Preston's  Illustrations  is,  we 
believe,  taken  directly  from  Bacon,  perhaps  originally  dictated 
by  him. 

The  charge  at  initiation  into  the  second  degree  again  enforces 
the  study  of  the  liberal  arts,  "  especially  of  geometry,  the  basis 
of  our  art;  geometry  and  Masonry,  originally  synonymous  terms, 
being  of  a  divine  and  moral  nature,  which,  while  it  proves  the 
wonderful  properties  of  nature,  demonstrates  the  more  important 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  281 

truths  of  morality. "  It  will  readily  be  perceived  that  here  is  a 
double  meaning;  for  geometry  does  not  really  teach  morality,  and 
no  one  can  believe  that  the  terms  geometry  and  Masonry  were 
ever  truly  synonymous.  The  next  instructions,  concerning  the 
five  orders  of  architecture,  further  confirm  the  notion  that  the 
teaching  is  symbolic,  and  that  it  requires  verbal  elucidation. 
The  information  on  architecture  is  of  the  most  elementary  char- 
acter, and  converts  itself,  at  the  end  of  the  second  page,  into 
"  an  analysis  of  the  human  faculties,"  where  we  are  taught  to 
consider  the  five  senses  as  the  gifts  of  nature,  "  the  channels  by 
which  knowledge  is  conveyed." 

In  the  treatment  of  the  senses  of  hearing,  seeing,  and  feeling,1 
the  analogies  between  the  bodily  organs  and  the  spiritual  facul- 
ties aue  eVer  present  to  the  writer.  It  is  "  the  ear,  the  gate  of 
the  understanding;  the  eye,  the  gate  of  the  affections;"2  the 
touch  of  nature  which  makes  the  whole  world  kin,  which  we 
perceive  shadowed  in  the  architectural  instructions  of  Masonry. 

When  these  topics  are  proposed  in  Masonic  assemblies,  the 
brethren  "  are  not  confined  to  any  peculiar  mode  of  explana- 
tion, "  which  probably  means  that  the  eye  may  be  interpreted 
the  eye  of  the  mind,  as  well  as  of  the  body;  that  the  ear,  in 
the  same  way,  may  be  intellectual  or  physical;  that  the  Masonic 
signs  may  be  palpable  to  the  eye  by  symbols,  gestures,  or  marks 
in  printing,  engraving,  and  sculptures,  or  sensible  (as  they 
have  been  found)  to  the  touch,  in  the  pages  or  edges  of  books; 
that  the  contents  of  the  books  themselves  may  be  tasted,  chewed, 
and  swallowed,  or  their  secrets  smelt  out  by  discerning  initiates. 
For,  though  "  the  senses  are  the  gifts  of  nature,  reason,  properly 
employed,  confirms  the  documents  of  nature,  which  are  always 
true  and  wholesome;  she  distinguishes  the  good  from  the  bad; 
rejects  the  last,  and  adheres  to  the  first.  Hearing  is  the  sense 
by  which  we  can  best  communicate  to  each  other  our  thoughts 
and  intentions,  our  purposes  and  desires,  while  our  reason  is 
capable  of  exerting  its  utmost  power  and  energy.     (The  descrip- 

1  See  "  Metaphors."  Also  of  the  book-marks,  in  which  not  only  the  sight, 
but  the  touch,  is  appealed  to. 

2  Promus,  1137,  where  are  many  Shakespeare  references. 


282  FRANCIS  BACON 

tion  of  this  sense  seems  to  point  to  the  verbal  teaching  of  the 
Masons.)  But  the  "  sight  is  the  noblest  of  all  the  senses,  the 
organ  is  the  masterpiece  of  Nature's  work,"  and  the  large 
amount  of  symbols  and  metaphors  which  connect  themselves 
with  this  sense  show  the  important  place  which  it  occupies  in 
Masonic  symbolism.  Then,  by  feeling,  we  distinguish  the  differ- 
ent qualities  of  bodies  (or,  it  might  be  added,  of  S2)irits).  They 
are  hot  or  cold,  hard  or  soft,  rough  or  smooth,  and  have  other 
qualities  which  are  seen  to  be  connected  "  by  some  original  prin- 
ciple of  human  nature  which  far  transcends  our  inquiry." 
"Hast  thou,"  says  Prospero  to  Ariel — "hast  thou,  though  a 
spirit,  some  touch,  some  feeling  of  their  afflictions?"  l  Shakes- 
peare makes  great  use  of  the  metaphor,  "  The  inly  touch  of 
love."  2  "A  sweet  touch,  a  quick  venue  of  wit."3  "  The  most 
bitter  touch  of  sorrow. "  4  "  Touched  with  noble  anger,"  5  with 
pity,  etc.  No  one  can  doubt  that  Shakespeare,  like  Enoch,  was 
a  good  Mason. 

Surely,  too,  the  eye  of  the  perceptive  intellect,  the  ready  ear  for 
truth  (in  other  words,  the  Will,  which,  Bacon  says,  rules 
thought,  free  as  it  is),  and  the  tender  sympathy  which  is  in  touch 
with  all  created  nature,  are  the  three  senses  of  hearing,  seeing, 
and  feeling,  which  are  deemed  particularly  essential  amongst 
Masons. 

Then  of  smelling,  "  that  sense  by  which  we  distinguish  odours, " 
we  recall  "  Ovidius  Naso  smelling  out  the  odoriferous  flowers  of 
fancy; "  6  the  Fool's  exposition  of  "  why  one's  nose  stands  i'  the 
middle  on  's  face,  to  keep  one's  eyes  of  either  side  's  nose; 
that  what  a  man  cannot  smell  out  he  may  spy  into,'1'1  7  with 
many  other  similar  figures;  of  smelling  out  villainy,  8  at  which 
"  Heaven  stops  the  nose;"  9  of  the  air  and  smell  of  the  court;  of 
calumny;  of  sin,  offence  and  corruption;  of  mortality  and  Heaven's 
breath.  10     Ariel's  graphic  description  of  the  effect  produced 

l  Temp.  v.  1.  2  Tw.  Gen.  Ver.  ii.  7.  3  L.  L.  L.  v.  1. 

4  All's  Well,  i.  1.         5  Lear,  i.  5.  6  L.  L.  L.  iv.  2. 

7  Lear,  i.  5.  8  Othello,  v.  2.  9  lb.  iv.  2. 

io  There  are  about  fifty  passages  in  Shakespeare  alone  which  illustrate  this 
one  idea. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  283 

upon  the  varlets  Trinculo,  Stephano,  and  Caliban,  by  his  music, 
shows  the  tendency  throughout  Bacon's  works  to  associate  many 
or  opposite  ideas  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  them  blend  iuto 
one  harmonious  thought.  Here  all  the  five  senses  do  their  part 
and  are  shown  to  be  mutually  connected.  The  men  were  drink- 
ing, and  striking  out,  striving  to  touch  something.  Ariel  beats 
his  labor,  and  their  senses  are  so  coufused  that  they  try  to  see  or 
to  smell  his  music,  following  it  to  the  detriment  of  their  shins, 
the  sense  of  hearing  beguiling  the  sense  of  touch,  until  they  are 
plunged  into  the  midst  of  foul-smelling  mud.  We  feel  through- 
out that  the  author  is  illustrating  his  doctrine  of  the  Biform 
Figure  of  Nature,  showing  how  a  man  who  takes  no  pains  to  cul- 
tivate the  intellectual  and  spiritual  side  of  his  nature  reduces 
himself  to  the  level  of  the  brutes,  to  which  by  his  body  he  is 
kin. 

Ari.     I  told  you,  sir,  they  were  red-hot  with  drinking; 
So  full  of  valour  that  they  smote  the  air 
For  breathing  iu  their  faces ;  beat  the  ground 
For  kissing  of  their  feet ;  yet  always  bending 
Towards  their  project.     Then  I  beat  my  tabor; 
At  which,  like  uuback'd  colts,  they  priced  their  ears, 
Advanced  their  eyelids,  lifted  tip  their  noses 
As  they  smelt  music:  so  I  charm'd  their  ears 
That  calf-like  they  my  lowing  follow'd  through 
Tooth'd  briars,  sharp  furzes,  pricking  goss  and  thorns, 
Which  entered  their  frail  shins :  at  last  I  left  them 
r  the  filthy-mantled  pool  beyond  your  cell, 
There  dancing  up  to  the  chins,  that  the  foul  lake 
O'erstunk  their  feetX 

Lastly,  with  regard  to  the  organ  of  taste,  "  which  enables  us 
to  make  a  proper  distinction  in  the  choice  of  our  food:  this 
sense  guards  the  entrance  of  the  alimentary  canal,  as  that  of 
smell  guards  the  entrance  of  the  canal  for  respiration.  Smelling 
and  tasting  are  inseparably  connected,  and  it  is  by  the  unnatural 
kind  of  life  men  commonly  lead  in  society  that  these  senses  are 
rendered  less  fit  to  perform  their  natural  offices.  .  .  .  The  senses 
are  the  channels  of  communication  to  the  mind,  and  when  the 

1  Tempest,  iv.  1, 


284  FRANCIS  BACON 

mind  is  diseased  every  sense  loses  its  virtue. "  In  the  noblest 
arts  the  mind  of  man  is  the  subject  upon  which  we  operate,  and 
wise  men  agree  that  there  is  but  one  way  to  the  knowledge  of 
Nature's  works,  the  way  of  observation  and  experiment. 
"  Memory,  imagination,  taste,  reasoning,  moral  perception,  and 
all  the  active  powers  of  the  soul  .  .  .  constitute  a  proper 
subject  for  the  investigation  of  Masons,  and  are  mysteries 
known  only  to  nature  and  to  nature's  god,  to  whom  all  are  in- 
debted for  every  blessing  they  enjoy."  In  other  words,  "  the 
proper  study  of  mankind  is  man,"  and  humanity  must  be  led 
to  inquire,  and  "  to  look  from  nature  up  to  nature's  God. "  Yet 
it  is  difficult  to  see  how  this  dissertation  has  any  true  connection 
with  the  adjoining  passages  on  architecture,  or  with  those  which 
immediately  follow,  on  "  geometry,  the  first  and  noblest  of  the 
sciences, "  the  same  as  symmetry,  and  "  order,  Heaven's  first 
law,"  unless  we  take  the  view  that  all  this  is  the  symbolic  lan- 
guage. In  this  section  God  is  called,  in  Baconian  language, 
the  Divine  Artist,  the  Great  Artificer  of  the  Universe,  the  Architect 
of  Nature.  The  universe  itself  is  God's  vast  machine,  framed 
by  himself  and  through  which,  by  geometry,  "  we  may  curiously 
trace  Nature,  through  her  various  windings,  to  her  most  concealed 
recesses. " 

In  the  really  poetical  and  very  Baconian  description  here 
given  of  the  beauty  and  order  displayed  in  the  various  parts  of 
animate  and  inanimate  creation,  the  writer  delights  to  prove 
"  the  existence  of  a  first  cause.  .  .  .  Every  blade  of  grass  that 
covers  the  field,  every  flower  that  blows,  every  insect  which 
wings  its  way  into  unbounded  space,  .  .  .  the  variegated  carpet 
of  the  terrestrial  creation,  every  plant  that  grows,  every  flower 
that  displays  its  beauties  or  breathes  its  sweets,  affords  instruc- 
tion and  delight.  Wben  we  extend  our  views  to  the  animal 
creation,  and  contemplate  the  varied  clothing  of  every  species, 
.  .  .  the  hues  traced  by  the  divine  pencil  in  the  plumage  of  the 
feathered  tribe,  how  exalted  is  our  conception  of  the  heavenly 
work.  .  .  .  The  apt  disposition  of  one  part  to  another  is  a  per- 
petual study  to  the  geometrician.  .  .  .  Even  when  he  descends 


AND  HIS  SE CUE T  SOCIETY.  285 

into  the  bowels  of  the  earth  he  finds  .  .  .  that  every  gem  and 
pebble  proclaims  the  handiwork  of  an  Almighty  Creator." 

In  the  sixth  section  of  the  second  degree,  previous  utterances, 
suggestions,  and  lessons  are  repeated,  still  in  diluted  Baconian 
terms.  Evaporating  a  little  superfluous  phraseology,  we  again 
come  upon  familiar  exhortations  to  temperance,  fortitude, 
prudence,  and  justice.  Temperance,  which  governs  the  passions. 
Fortitude,  which  he  who  possesses  is  seldom  shaken,  and  never 
overthrown  by  the  storms  that  surround  him.  Prudence,  the  chief 
jewel  of  the  human  frame.  Justice,  the  bound  of  right,  the  cement 
of  civil  society,  which,  in  a  great  measure,  constitutes  real  good- 
ness, and  which  should  be  the  perpetual  study  of  the  good 
Mason.  Virtue,  true  nobility.  Wisdom,  the  channel  through 
which  virtue  is  directed  and  conveyed.  The  mind,  the  noblest 
subject  of  our  studies.  Observation  and  experiment,  the  one  way 
to  the  knowledge  of  nature's  works. 

Masonry,  we  are  repeatedly  told,  is  a  progressive  science, 
including  almost  every  branch  of  polite  learning.  The  omission 
implied  consists,  apparently,  in  all  matters  connected  with 
Christianity  and  the  church  of  Christ;  in  fact,  if,  as  we  think, 
Bacon  framed  these  rules,  we  see  that  this  must  be  so.  For, 
after  a  dissertation  (still  in  Baconian  language  paraphrased), 
upon  "  geometry,  the  noblest  of  the  sciences;  "...  upon  the 
"  numberless  worlds  framed  by  the  same  Divine  Artist,  which 
roll  through  the  vast  expanse,  conducted  by  the  unerring  laws 
of  nature,"  and  of  the  "progress  made  in  architecture,  par- 
ticularly in  the  reign  of  Solomon, "  these  instructions  finish  up 
with  a  short  explanation  of  the  liberal  arts,  which  are  computed 
by  the  Masons  to  be  seven  in  number. 1 

These  arts  are  grammar,  rhetoric,  logic,  arithmetic,  geometry, 
music,  astronomy  (which  includes  the  doctrine  of  the  spheres), 
geography,  navigation,  and  the  arts  dependent  on  them.  "  Thus 
end  the  different  sections  of  the  second  lecture,"  .  .  .  which, 
besides  a  complete  theory  of  philosophy  and  physics,  contains  a 


1  Seven,  that  mystical  number,  which,  as  we  have  elsewhere  said,  is  so  closely 
associated  with  Masonic  symbols  and  traditions. 


286  FRANCIS  BACON 

regular  system  of  science,  demonstrated  on  the  clearest  princi- 
ples, and  established  on  the  firmest  foundations. 

Truly  this  must  be  a  wonderful  lecture,  and  it  seems  quite  a 
pity  that  the  majority  of  mankind  should  be  excluded  from  this 
short  cut  to  the  seveu  liberal  arts  and  sciences.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, it  only  points  the  way,  as  Bacon  did,  to  so  many  studies 
which  ultimately  lead  to  knowledge  fitting  its  possessor  for 
admission  to  the  last  and  highest  degree  of  initiation.  For  the 
third  and  last  lecture  consists  of  twelve  sections,  composed  of 
"  a  variety  of  particulars,  which  render  it  impossible  to  give  an 
abstract  without  violating  the  laivs  of  the  order.  .  .  .  Every 
circumstance  that  respects  government  and  system,  ancient  lore 
and  deep  research,  curious  invention  and  ingenious,  is  accurately 
traced,  while  the  mode  of  proceeding,  on  public  as  well  as  on 
private  occasions,  is  explained.  Among  the  brethren  of  this 
degree  the  land-marks  of  the  order  are  preserved;  and  from 
them  is  derived  that  fund  of  information  which  expert  and 
ingenious  craftsmen  only  can  afford,  whose  judgment  has  been 
matured  by  years  and  experience." 

"  To  a  complete  knowledge  of  this  lecture  few  attain ;  .  .  . 
from  this  class  the  rulers  of  the  craft  are  selected;  and  it  is  only 
from  those  who  are  capable  of  giving  instruction  that  we  can 
properly  expect  to  receive  it. " 

It  is,  then,  this  highest  class  of  Masons  that  we  should  con- 
fidently expect  to  find  in  possession  of  all  the  histories  of  the 
building  and  endowing  of  the  great  libraries,  colleges,  schools, 
hospitals,  etc.,  of  which  we  have  elsewhere  spoken.  We  should 
expect  them  not  only  to  be  able  to  give  account  of  the  origin 
and  builders  of  these  and  other  structures — gateways,  fountains, 
etc.,  to  ancient  houses;  tombs  and  monumental  tablets  and 
sculptures;  of  wood-carving^,  of  pulpits,  choir  stalls,  etc.  Iron- 
work also,  in  churches,  gateways,  and  old  signs;  designs  in 
stained  windows  and  ceilings.  But  we  should  expect  from  them 
a  clear  and  indubitable  explanation  of  the  meaning  of  the 
peculiar  designs  and  figures  which  we  have  observed,  not  only  in 
buildings,  but  in  books. 

A  very  brief   account  of  the    building  of   the  Temple  of 


AND  HIS  SECUET  SOCIETY.  287 

Solomon,  and  of  the  dedication  of  that  edifice,  follows.  "  We 
can,"  says  the  author,  "  afford  little  assistance  to  the  industrious 
Mason  iu  this  section,  as  it  can  only  be  acquired  by  oral  commun- 
ication. "  A  remark  which  again  plainly  shows  us  that  the  temple 
to  be  built  is  not  a  mere  structure  of  brick  or  stone.  Two 
pages  more  bring  us  to  an  explanation  of  "  the  seven  liberal 
arts, "  of  which  five  at  least  seem  to  have  nothing  to  do  with 
architecture  —  grammar,  rhetoric,  logic,  arithmetic,  geometry, 
music,  and  astronomy  —  and  as  these,  together  with  "  the  doc- 
trine of  the  spheres, "  are  all  to  be  included  in  one  lecture,  we 
may  rest  satisfied  that  this  lecture  is  not  so  profound  as  its  title 
might  lead  us  to  suppose. 

Here  we  should  be  inclined  to  break  off  this  review  of 
Masonry,  because,  having  extracted  as  much  as  we  can  of  the 
pith  and  meaning  and  aim  of  these  Masonic  mysteries,  it  seems 
undesirable  to  spend  time  and  space  upon  particulars  which 
apparently  have  for  their  object  to  puzzle  and  confuse  the  unini- 
tiated reader ;  though  to  the  initiated  they  may,  perhaps,  con- 
vey some  information  or  reminder.  We  continue,  nevertheless, 
chiefly  for  the  sake  of  illustrating  a  theory  set  forward  in 
another  place,  with  regard  to  feigned  or  disguised  histories, 
records  and  biographies,  and  changed  names. 

In  Book  III.  a  short  paper  is  printed  which  professes  to  con- 
tain "  Certayne  questions,  ivith  answers  to  the  same,  concerning 
the  mystery  o/Maconrye,  writtenc  by  the  liande  of  Kynge  Henrye, 
thesixtheofthename,  and  faWifullyecopyedby  me  JohauhBY'LAt^D, 
antiquarius,  by  the  commande  of  his  Highnesse. "  Whether  or 
not  this  document  is  what  it  pretends  to  be,  is  not  to  the  present 
purpose;  our  object  is  to  draw  attention  to  the  strange  foot- 
notes which  accompany  the  questions,  and  which  occupy  much 
more  letter-press  than  the  document  itself.  None  of  these  notes 
appear  to  be  both  genuine  and  necessary;  some  contain  the 
elaborate  quibbles  or  puns  which  were  said  to  be  so  irresistible 
to  Bacon,  but  which,  also,  we  think,  formed  a  part  of  the  secret 
and  ambiguous  language  of  his  society ;  others  speak  of  the 
invention  of  arts  which  Bacon  suggested  or  commenced ;  all 
include  touches  of  his  style;   one  mentions  his    name.    For 


288  FPANClS  P.ACON 

instance,  foot-note  6  turns  upon  a  supposed  confusion  between 
Venetia  and  Phoenicia:  "perhaps  similitude  of  sound  might 
deceive  the  clerk  tvho  first  took  down  the  examination."  Then  to 
the  question,  "  Howe  commede  ytt  yn  Engelonde?  "  we  are 
informed  that  Masonry  was  brought  by  "  Peter  Gower,  a  Grecian, " 
who,  after  travelling  through  Egypt  and  Syria,  and  every  coun- 
try where  "  the  Venetians  "  had  planted  Masonry,  "  framed  a 
grate  lodge  at  '  Groton.'  "  The  foot-notes  again  correct  this 
passage  at  much  length : 

"  Peter  Gower  must  be  another  mistake  of  the  writer.  I  was 
puzzled  at  first  to  guess  who  Peter  Gower  should  be,  the  name 
being  perfectly  Euglish ;  or  how  a  Greek  could  come  by  such  a 
name.  But  as  soon  as  I  thought  of  Pythagoras,  I  could  scarce 
forbear  smiling  to  find  that  philosopher  had  undergone  a  metem- 
psychosis he  never  dreamt  of.  We  need  only  consider  the  French 
pronunciation  of  his  name,  Pythagorc,  that  is,  Petagore,  to  con- 
ceive how  easily  such  a  mistake  may  be  made  by  an  unlearned 
clerk. » 

The  true,  object  of  this  note  seems  to  be  to  draw  attention  to 
the  connection  between  Pythagoras  and  the  wisdom  and  relig- 
ious mysteries  of  the  Egyptians.  "  That  he  was  initiated  into 
several  different  orders  of  priests,  icho  in  those  days  kept  all 
their  learning  secret  from  the  vulgar,"  is  a  hint  which  seems  to 
point  to  a  similar  system  in  Masonry,  and  the  subsequent  re- 
marks about  Pythagoras  having  discovered  the  Forty-seventh 
Book  of  Euclid,  and  that  he  "  made  every  geometrical  theorem 
a  secret,  and  admitted  only  such  to  the  knowledge  of  them  as 
had  first  undergone  a  five  years'  silence,"  seems  to  contain  a 
further  hint  concerning  the  nature  of  certain  highly  scientific 
systems  of  cipher- writing  which  we  have  elsewhere  found  men- 
tioned in  connection  with  the  name  of  Pythagoras. 

With  regard  to  "  the  grate  lodge"  which  Pythagoras  is  said 
to  have  founded  at  Groton,  another  foot-note  corrects  the  error 
after  this  fashion:  "  Groton  is  the  name  of  a  place  in  England. 
The  place  here  meant  is  Crotona, "  etc.  From  the  many  Masons 
made  by  Pythagoras  "  yn  processe  of  tyrne,  the  arte  passed  yn 
Engelonde." 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  289 

In  answer  to  the  question,  "  Whatte  artes  haveth  the  Ma- 
connes  techedde  mankynde?"  we  are  told  that  they  taught 
agriculture,  architecture,  astronomy,  numbers,  music,  poesy, 
chemistry,  government,  and  "  relygyonne  "  (religion).  To  this 
a  foot-note  appends  the  remark,  "  What  appears  most  odd  is, 
that  they  reckon  religion  among  the  arts, "  and  this  appears  to  give 
another  hint  of  the  double-meanings,  and  symbolism,  and,  per- 
haps, of  the  cipher-system  introduced,  then  as  now,  into  religious 
books,  pictures,  designs,  and  edifices. 

But  the  nest  note  is  even  more  suggestive.  In  reply  to  an 
inquiry  as  to  what  the  Masons  conceal,  we  learn  that  "  they 
concelethe  the  arte  of  ffyndynge  neue  artes."  Here  our  com- 
mentator becomes  more  than  usually  communicative: 

"  The  art  of  finding  arts  must  certainly  be  a  most  useful  art. 
My  Lord  Bacon's  Navam  Organum  is  an  attempt  toward  some- 
what of  the  same  kind.  But  I  much  doubt  that,  if  ever  the 
Masons  had  it,  they  have  now  lost  it,  since  sofeiv  new  arts  have 
been  lately  invented  and  so  many  are  wanted.  The  idea  I  have 
formed  of  such  an  art  is,  that  it  must  be  something  proper  to  be 
employed  in  all  the  sciences  generally,  as  algebra  is  in  numbers, 
by  the'  help  of  which  new  rules  of  arithmetic  are  and  may  be 
found. " 

The  Masons,  also,  are  said  to  conceal  the  art  of  keeping  secrets, 
though  what  kind  of  an  art  this  may  be  the  commentator  pro- 
fesses not  to  know.  They  also  conceal "  the  art  of  changes"  (but 
he  knows  not  what  it  means)  and  "  the  facultye  of  Abrac. "  Here 
he  is  utterly  in  the  dark.  Lastly,  Masons  conceal  their  "  uni- 
versal language. "  The  foot-note  to  this  statement  might  be 
supposed  to  be  a  mere  transcription,  either  of  some  rough  notes 
or  of  verbal  instructions  given  by  Bacon  himself: 

"  An  universal  language  has  been  much  desired  by  the  learned 
of  many  ages.  It  is  a  thing  rather  to  be  wished  than  hoped  for. 
.  .  .  If  it  be  true,  I  guess  it  must  be  something  like  the  language 
of  the  pantomines  amongst  the  ancient  Romans,  who  were  said 
to  be  able,  by  signs  only,  to  express  and  deliver  any  oration  in- 
telligibly to  all  men  and  languages." 

Bacon  makes  many  references  to  the  silent  language  conveyed 

19 


290  FRA  XCIS  BA  CON 

by  pictures  or  sculptures,  but  the  passage  just  quoted  may  con- 
tain a  bint  of  tbe  instruction  which  may  be  given  by  dumb 
shows,  or  stage  plays,  for  it  continues  as  Bacon  does  where,  in 
in  the  Be  Augmentis,  he  upholds  the  benefits  derivable  from  a 
wise  use  of  the  theater.  Yet  in  all  that  regards  these  arts  of 
concealment,  there  are,  to  the  mind  of  the  present  writer,  strong 
hintsof  a  system  not  so  much  of  secret  studies  as  of  secret  methods  of 
communication,  whether  by  means  of  cipher- writing,  hieroglyphic 
designs,  pantomimic  gestures,  or  double-meaning  language. 
This  can  only  be  tested  by  a  comparison  of  many  books  in  which 
veiled  information  of  the  same  kind  is  to  be  found.  May  some 
industrious  reader  follow  up  the  subject,  which  seems  to  become 
easier  as  we  plod  on. 

Tbe  fourth  and  last  book  in  this  strange  little  volume  pro- 
fesses to  give  "  The  History  of  Masonry  in  England. "  Wbether 
or  not  anyone  was  ever  found  to  believe  the*  statements  made  in 
the  opening  chapters  of  this  "  History"  we  know  not,  but 
hitherto  we  have  not  found  them  repeated,  excepting  in  Masonic 
dictionaries  and  manuals.  We  are  to  believe  that  "Masonry" 
flourished  in  England  before  the  time  of  the  Druids;  that  lodges 
and  conventions  were  regularly  held  throughout  the  period 
of  Roman  rule  until  Masonry  was  reduced  to  a  low  ebb 
through  continual  wars.  At  length  the  Emperor  Carausius, 
having  shaken  off  the  Roman  yoke,  contrived  the  most  effectual 
means  to  render  his  person  and  government  acceptable  to  the 
people  by  assuming  the  character  of  a  Mason.  ...  He  raised 
tbe  Masons  to  the  first  rank  as  his  favourites  and  appointed  Al- 
banus,  his  steward,  the  principal  superintendent  of  their  assem- 
blies. Later  on,  "  he  granted  them  a  charter  and  commanded 
Albanus  to  preside  over  them  as  Grand  Master.  Some  particulars 
of  a  man  so  truly  exemplary  among  Masons  will  certainly  merit 
attention.  Albanus  was  born  at  Verulam,  now  St.  Albans,  in 
Hertfordshire,  of  a  noble  family. "  Some  account  of  the  proto- 
martyr,  St.  Alban,  is  then  introduced;  it  ends  by  saying  that  St. 
Alban  built  a  splendid  palace  for  the  Emperor  at  Verulam,  and 
tbat  to  reward  his  diligence  "  the  Emperor  made  him  steward  of 
his  household  and  chief  ruler  of  the  realm.  .  .  .     We  are  assured 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  291 

that  this  knight  teas  a  celebrated  architect  and  a  real  encourager 
of  able  workmen;  it  cannot,  therefore,  be  supposed  that  Free- 
masonry would  be  neglected  under  so  eminent  a  patron." 

This  remarkable  and  authentic  history  further  enlightens  us  as 
to  St.  Alban's  munificence  and  liberality  in  paying  his  servants. 
"  Whereas  before  that  time,  in  all  the  land,  a  Mason  had  but  a 
penny  a  day  and  his  meat,  St.  Alban  mended  it, "  for  "  he  gave  them 
two  shillings  a  day,  and  threepence  to  their  cheer.  ...  Healsogot 
tbem  a  charter  from  the  King."  1  An  additional  note  adds  that 
"  a  MS.  written  in  the  time  of  James  II.  contains  an  account  of 
this  circumstance,  and  increases  the  iveekly  pay  to  3s.  6d.  and  3d. 
a,  day  for  the  bearers  of  burdens. "  These  payments  were  liberal 
for  the  seventeenth  century.  For  the  days  of  St.  Alban,  mar- 
tyred A.  D.  303,  the  allowance  strikes  us  as  remarkable  for 
labouring  masons  and  hod-men.  Perhaps  we  may  find  three 
shillings  and  sixpence  per  week  was  the  pay  for  scribes,  amanu- 
enses, etc.,  and  threepence  a  day  for  messengers. 

The  editor  of  the  Royal  Masonic  Cyclopcedia  is  so  considerate 
as  to  grant  his  readers  the  full  use  of  their  faculties  in  this 
investigation.  To  be  sure,  he  complicates  it  as  much  as  possible 
by  cross-references,  but  it  seems  to  be  the  rule  rather  than  the 
exception  to  hinder  students  from  attaining  any  information  of 
value  without  the  exercise  of  some  perseverance  and  considera- 
ble loss  of  time.  Thus,  we  wish  to  ascertain  the  origin  of  Free- 
masonry. Finding  nothing  to  the  point  under  "  Freemason, " 
we  try  "  Origin  of  Freemasonry, "  and  are  more  happy.  This 
article  summarizes  the  theories  promulgated  on  the  subject: 
"  1.  Masonry  derived  from  the  patriarchs.  2.  From  the  myste- 
ries of  the  pagans.  3.  From  the  construction  of  Solomon's 
Temple.  4.  From  the  Crusades.  5.  From  the  Knights  Templars. 
C.  From  the  Roman  Collegia  of  Artificers.  7.  From  the  operat- 
ive masons  of  the  middle  ages.  8.  From  the  Rosier ucians  of 
the  sixteenth  century.2  9.  From  Oliver  Cromwell.  10.  From 
Prince  Charles  Stuart,   for  political  purposes.    11.  From  Sir 

1  Why  has  the  Emperor  become  suddenly  onlj-  the  King  1 
1  Observe  that  the  Rosicrucians  are  here  traced  by  the  Freemasons  no  far- 
ther back  than  Bacon's  time. 


292  FRANCIS  BACON 

Christopher  Wren,  at  the  building  of  St.  Paul's.    12.  From  Dr. 
Desaguliers  and  his  friends,  in  1717." 

"  It  is  hardly  necessary,"  adds  this  accommodating  instructor, 
"  to  express  any  opinion  on  the  point :  the  Fraternity  has  the 
advantage  of  being  able  to  choose  for  itself,  and,  as  Masonry  is 
now  worked,  any  decision  on  the  point  is  as  impossible  as  the 
value  of  that  decision  would  be  futile."  This  is  discouraging. 
Nevertheless,  we  cannot  fail  to  observe  that,  amongst  the  twelve 
distinct  theories  as  to  the  origin  of  the  Freemasons,  the  legend 
of  St.  Alban  is  omitted.  The  writer  refers  us  to  a  previous 
article  on  the  "  Antiquity  of  Freemasonry."  The  words  with 
which  this  article  greets  us  are  doubtless  intended  to  deter  us 
from  investigation : 

"  On  this  subject  much  has  been  written  to  little  purpose,  and  it 
is  not  proposed  to  further  discuss  them  here.  That  mystical 
societies  nourished  iong  before  the  dawn  of  history,  is  not  to  be 
denied,  but  that  such  societies  essentially  resembledFreemasonry, 
it  is  more  than  futile  to  opine. " 

Then  the  writer  goes  off  into  a  discussion  of  hieroglyphics 
and  Egyptian  symbolism,  and  speaks  of  Hiram,  Osiris,  and 
Adonis,  and  of  Numa  Pompilius,  king  of  Rome.  '  He  is  not  much 
interested  in  his  own  remarks,  and  evidently  does  not  expect 
any  one  else  to  be  so.  "  It  is  idle  to  speculate  upon  such  a  topic 
as  the  antiquity  of  these  secret  associations,  and  it  is  far  wiser 
to  accept  the  development,  as  being  in  essentia  all  that  we 
know  upon  the  subject." 

Alas !  not  every  one  has  so  much  wisdom  as  to  find  bliss  in 
ignorance.    We  next  try  "  Alban,  St. —  See  Saint  Alban. " 

11  Saint  Alban.  —  The  proto-martyr  of  England,  born  at 
Verulam  or  Saint  Alban's,  in  Herefordshire.  He  is  the  reputed 
legendary  introducer  of  Freemasonry  into  England,  but  without 
much  vidence. " 

So  the  writer  takes  no  heed  of  all  the  accurate  historic  infor- 
mation about  the  Emperor  Carausius  which  the  "  Past  Master 
of  the  Lodge  of  Antiquity"  was  so  particular  in  chronicling] 
We  are  now  referred  to  a  sixth  article  on  "  Grand  Masters  of 
Freemasonry,"  which  opens  by  again  cautioning  the   reader 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  293 

against  putting  any  trust  in  the  information  which  is  about  to 
be  imparted  to  him. 

"  Grand  Masters  of  England  before  the  Revival  of  Masonry 
in  1717.  This  list  has  been  collated  from  several  authorities.  It 
is,  however,  not  given  as  fact,  but  as  tradition." 

Here  the  "  tradition  "  of  St.  Alban,  which  in  Preston's  Illus- 
trations is  presented  as  true  history,  is  repeated.  The  first 
Grand  Master  is  said  to  have  been  — 

"  A.  D.  287.  Saint  Alban,  a  Roman  Knight,  when  Carausius 
was  Emperor  of  Britain." 

Say  that  the  origin  of  Freemasonry  was  traditional,  yet  what 
need  is  there  to  invent  an  Emperor  Carausius?1 

After  a  sketch  of  the  History  of  Masonry  in  England,  under 
St.  Augustine,  King  Alfred,  and  the  Knights  Templars,  we  are 
gradually  made  to  perceive  how,  from  very  early  times,  the 
great  family  of  the  Pembrokes  and  the  Montagues  were  con- 
nected with  (or  said  to  be  connected  with)  Masonry.  Roger  de 
Montgomery,  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  is  said  to  have  employed  the 
fraternity  in  building  the  Tower  of  London.  Gilbert  de  Clare, 
Marquis  of  Pembroke,  presided  over  the  lodges  in  the  reign  of 
Stephen,  when  the  Chapel,  afterwards  the  House  of  Commons, 
at  Westminster,  was  built  by  the  Masons.  On  the  accession  of 
Edward  I.,  1272,  the  care  of  the  Masons  was  entrusted  to  the 
Archbishop  of  York,  the  Earl  of  Gloucester,  and  "  Ralph,  Lord 
of  Mount  Hermer,  the  progenitor  of  the  family  of  the  Mon- 
tagues,"  who  finished  the  building  of  Westminster  Abbey. 
Even  when  we  come  down  to  the  history  of  Inigo  Jones,  as  a 
Mason  and  architect  of  the  palace  at  Whitehall,  and  of  many 
other  magnificent  structures  in  the  time  of  James  I.,  we  are 
reminded  that  it  was  to  William  Herbert,  Earl  of  Pembroke, 
that  Inigo  Jones  owed  his  education ;  that  by  his  instrumentality 
Inigo  Jones  was  introduced  to  the  notice  of  the  King,  "  nomi- 

l  We  can  only  suppose  that  Carausius  was  either  a  pseudonym  for  James  I., 
whose  "steward  and  chief  ruler  of  the  realm"  Bacon  really  was;  or  that  two 
facts  are  mixed,  and  that  a  record  of  something  connected  with  Prince,  after- 
wards King  Charles  (Carolus)  may  be  here  hinted.  Those  who  follow  up  these 
devices  for  imparting  knowledge  will  not  fiiid  either  of  these  suggestions  to 
he  impossible,  or  exceptionally  strange. 


294  FRANCIS  BACON 

nated  Grand  Master  of  England,  and  deputised  by  his  sovereign 
to  preside  over  the  lodges."  Again,  we  read  that  William  Her- 
bert, Earl  of  Pembroke,  became  warden  to  Grand  Master  Jones, 
and  that  when  the  architect  resigned,  in  1618,  the  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke succeeded  him,  and  presided  over  the  fraternity  until 
1630.  Others  of  Bacon's  friends  accepted  office  for  short 
periods — Henry  Dan  vers,  Earl  of  Derby;  Thomas  Howard, 
Earl  of  Arundel,  and  Francis  Russel,  Earl  of  Bedford.  Then, 
in  1636,  Inigo  Jones  returned  to  his  office  of  Grand  Master, 
which  he  retained  till  hb  death,  in  1616.  He  designed  Wilton 
House,  the  seat  of  the  Earls  of  Pembroke,  where  there  was  a 
private  theatre,  and  where  Measure  for  Measure  was  first  per- 
formed by  Shakespeare's  company,  in  order,  it  is  said,  to 
propitiate  the  King  at  a  time  when  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  was  about 
to  be  tried  for  his  life  at  Winchester,  and  when  James  I.  and 
his  suite  were  staying  at  Wilton. 

In  the  early  accounts  of  Freemasonry,  it  really  appears  that 
the  actual  building  of  "  fair  houses, "  or  magnificent  edifices 
for  public  utility,  or  for  religious  purposes,  was  the  sole 
or  chief  object  and  mission  of  the  Masons.  Even  at  these 
early  dates,  however,  the  friends  of  Bacon's  family  were 
apparently  always  mixed  up  with  the  affairs  of  the  society. 
Long  after  Bacon's  death,  the  records  of  Masonry  are  seen 
recording  the  same  connection.  On  the  27th  December,  1663, 
a  general  assembly  was  held,  at  which  Henry  Jermyn,  Earl 
of  St.  Albans,  was  elected  Grand  Master,  who  appointed  Sir 
John  Denham  his  deputy,  and  Mr.  (afterwards  Sir)'Chisto- 
pher  Wren  and  John  Webb  his  wardens. " 

We  pause,  in  order  to  draw  especial  attention  to  a  foot-note 
appended  to  the  name  of  Christopher  Wren: 

"  He  was  the  only  son  of  Dr.  Christopher  Wren,  Dean  of  Wind- 
sor, and  was  born  in  1632.  His  genius  for  arts  and  sciences 
appeared  early.  At  the  age  of  thirteen  he  invented  a  new  astro- 
nomical instrument,  by  the  name  of  Pan-  Organum,  and  wrote  a 
Treatise  on  Rivers. " 

.     It  is,  perhaps,  needless  to  say  no  such  "  astronomical  instru- 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  295 

ment  »  is  known  at  the  Royal  Society;  neither  is  it  mentioned 
in  any  other  account  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren  which  we  have 
met  with,  although  the  fact  that  he  was,  in  1680,  chosen  Presi- 
dent of  that  society,  might  naturally  suggest  some  instances  of 
his  connection  with  mathematical  science  and  mechanical  inven- 
tions. Observe,  that  here  is  another  precocious  boy  who 
"  invents  "  or  designs  a  plan  for  a  universal  method,  a  Novum 
Organum.  Will  any  one  produce  Sir  Christopher  Wren's  Treat- 
ise on  Rivers,  or  any  proof  of  his  having  written  such  a  work? 

In  no  life  or  biography  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren  do  we  find 
any  of  the  statements  which  this  work  on  Freemasonry  inserts 
concerning  him,  and  which  (as  usual  in  these  cases)  are  rele- 
gated to  afoot-note.    His  biographer  continues: 

"  His  other  numerous  juvenile  productions  in  mathematics 
prove  him  to  be  a  scholar  of  the  highest  eminence.  He  assisted 
Dr  Scarborough  in  astronomical  preparations,  and  experiments 
upon  the  muscles  of  the  human  body ;  whence  are  dated  the  first 
introduction  of  geometrical  and  mechanical  speculations  in 
anatomy.  He  wrote  discoveries  on  the  longitude ;  on  the  varia- 
tions of  the  magnetical  needle ;  de  re  nautica  veterum ;  how  to 
find  the  velocity  of  a  ship  in  sailing;  of  the  improvements  of 
galleys,  and  how  to  restore  wrecks.  Besides  these,  he  treated  on 
the  convenient  way  of  using  artillery  on  ship-board ;  how  to 
build  on  deep  water;  how  to  build  a  mole  into  the  sea,  without 
Puzzolan  dust  or  cisterns,  and  of  the  improvement  of  river  navi- 
gation in  joining  of  rivers.  In  short,  the  tvorks  of  this  excellent 
genius  appear  to  be  rather  the  united  efforts  of  a  whole  century 
than  the  production  of  one  man." 

Here,  it  will  be  observed,  the  writer  is  saying  of  Sir  Christopher 
Wren  the  same,  in  other  words,  that  Dr.  Sprat  said  of  Bacon,  that 
"  though  he  might  not  allow  him  to  be  equal  to  a  thousand  men,  he 
was  at  least  equal  to  twenty. " 

And,  looking  back  at  the  catalogue  of  Wren's  performances, 
not  only  are  we  disposed  to  look  askance  upon  statements  which 
come  to  us  in  such  questionable  shape,  and  which  have  such  a 
curious  affinity  with  particulars  of  researches  which  we  doknow 
to  have  employed  the  nimble  brain  and  the  equally  nimble  pen 
of  Bacon;  but  further  (since  it  is  pleasant  to  understand  what 


296  FBANCIS  BACON 

we  read)  will  any  one  inform  us  as  to  Puzzolan  dust,  and  what 
can  any  kind  of  dust  have  to  do  with  the  building  of  a  mole,  or 
with  cisterns?  Is  it  possible  that  in  Puzzolan  dust  we  meet  with 
one  of  those  egregious  puns,  those  quibbles  or  jests  which,  ac- 
cording to  Ben  Jonson,  Bacon  never  could  pass  byf  Was  this 
the  dust  which  is  to  be  cast  in  the  eyes  of  the  mind  to  "  puzzle 
the  understanding,"  or  to  "  puzzle  the  will"  of  man?  We  read 
in  Rosicrucian  works  of  "  dusty  impressions,"  l  of  brains  which 
"  trot  through  dust  and  dirt,"  2  and  the  quibble  is  as  well  suited 
to  convey  its  meaning  as  many  others  which  we  find  in  these  and 
similar  books.  Perhaps  when  Ben  Jonson  said  that  Bacon  never 
could  pass  by  a  jest,  he  said  it  with  a  purpose,  to  draw  attention 
to  these  endless  ambiguities  of  speech,  the  trivial  puns  which 
conveyed  such  weighty  meanings. 

The  names  of  distinguished  Masons  are  well  worthy  of  note. 
They  afford  much  insight  into  the  connection  between  certain 
famous  old  Arms  in  printing  and  kindred  trades  and  those  of 
to-day.  It  will  be  seen  how  many  names  well  known  in  litera- 
ture, art,  and  science  are  Masons,  as  it  were,  hereditary,  and 
handing  down  the  lamp  of  tradition,  each  in  his  own  line.  We 
have  noticed  some  interesting  tombs  in  connection  with  this  sub- 
ject, and  younger  readers  are  advised  (having  filled  their  minds 
with  the  symbols  of  these  societies)  to  keep  their  eyes  open 
when  visiting  old  churches  and  church-yards. 

To  return  to  the  point  whence  we  started  in  this  chapter,  we 
find  it  almost  impossible  to  believe  that  the  Rosicrucians  and  the 
Freemasons  were  separate  and  totally  disconnected  fraternities, 
all  evidence  showing  them  as,  originally,  one  and  the  same,  the 
Rosicrucians  forming  the  pinnacle  to  the  lower  orders  of  Masons, 
and  although  a  mass  of  suggestive  evidence  has  come  before  us, 
by  means  of  the  Rosicrucian  books  and  documents,  the  more 
solid  historical  facts  have  all  been  reached  by  an  examination  of 
the  old  works  which  are  professedly  Masonic. 

It  is  more  than  probable  that  at  some  period  within  a  hundred 
years  from  the  death  of  Bacon  the  "  little  knowledge"  of  many 

1  Bruno's  Heroic  Enthusiasts,  pail  II.  p.  176,  edited  by  L.  Williams,  published 
by  Quaritch.    2Quarles'  Emblems,  i.  11 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  297 

of  his  followers  became  indeed  "  a  dangerous  thing; "  that  the 
"  puffed,"  "  swelling"  and  "  windy"  pride  which  he  reprobated 
took  the  place  of  the  patient,  humble,  self-effacing  spirit  of 
his  first  fraternity,  and  that  the  "  Free  Thought"  for  which  he 
laboured  "  from  curbed  license  pluck'd  the  muzzle  of  restraint. " 
Instead  of  exercising  a  gentle  and  benign  practice  of  tolerance 
in  matters  of  religious  ceremonial  or  of  opinion,  the  Masons, 
in  many  cases,  seem  to  have  lost  sight  of  the  universality  or 
catholicity  of  true  faith,  their  religious  principles  degenerating 
into  mere  abuse  and  vituperation  of  the  Romish  church,  whereas 
their  duty  was  but  to  resist  and  expose  its  errors  and 
imposture,  and  the  initiation  of  Roman  Catholics  (not 
Papists)  was  permitted  by  the  laws  of  the  brotherhood.  This 
violent  and  intemperate  behaviour  of  the  Freemasons  seems  to 
have  produced  a  rupture,  and  Freemasonry  became  not  the 
handmaid,  but  the  enemy  and  opponent  of  Christianity,  and  the 
result  affords  a  melancholy  illustration  of  the  saying  of  Bacon 
concerning  atheism  and  its  causes: 

"  The  causes  of  atheism  are  divisions  in  religion,  if  they  be 
many, for  one  main  division  addeth  zeal  to  both  sides,  but  many 
divisions  introduce  atheism." 

Scandal  of  priests,  and  a  custom  of  profane  scoffing  in  holy 
matters  are  also  causes  which  he  notes  for  that  atheism  which 
to  him  is  especially  "  hateful  in  that  it  depriveth  human  na- 
ture of  the  means  to  exalt  itself  above  human  frailty. "  He 
quotes  the  speech  of  Cicero  to  the  conscript  fathers,  in  which  he 
says  that  they  may  admire  themselves  as  much  as  they  please, 
yet,  neither  by  numbers,  nor  by  bodily  strength,  nor  by  arts  and 
cunning,  nor  by  the  inborn  good  sense  of  their  nation,  did  they 
vanquish  their  many  powerful  antagonists;  "  but  through  our 
devotion  and  religious  feeling,  and  this  the  sole,  true  wisdom, — 
they  having  perceived  that  all  things  are  regulated  and  governed 
by  the  providence  of  the  immortal  gods, —  have  ive  subdued  all 
races  and  nations. "  1 

l  Essay  Of  Atheism. 


CHAPTER  X. 

PAPEE-HAEKS     USED     UNTIL    THE     TIME     OF     SIE    NICHOLAS 

BACON. 

AMONGST  the  helps  to  the  understanding  in  the  Interpreta- 
tion of  Nature,  Bacon  "  puts  in  the  tenth  place  instances  of 
power,  or  the  fasces,  which,  also,  I  call  instances  of  the  wit  or  hands 
of  man.  These  are  the  noblest  and  most  consummate  works  in 
each  art,  exhibiting  the  ultimate  perfection  of  it."  Such  works 
should,  he  says,  "  be  noted  and  enumerated,  especially  such  as 
are  the  most  complete  and  perfect ;  because,  starting  from  them, 
we  shall  find  an  easier  and  nearer  passage  to  neiv  ivorks  hith- 
erto unattcmpted. . . .  What  we  have  to  do  is  simply  this,  to  seek 
out  and  thoroughly  inspect  all  mechanical  arts,  and  all  liberal, 
too,  as  far  as  they  deal  with  works,  and  make  therefrom  a  col- 
lection or  particular  history  of  the  great  and  masterly  and  most 
perfect  works  in  every  one  of  them,  together  with  the  mode  of 
their  production  and  operation.  And  yet,  I  do  not  tie  down  the 
diligence  that  should  be  used  in  such  a  collection,  to  those  works 
only  which  are  esteemed  the  masterpieces  and  mysteries  of  an 
art,  and  which  excite  wonder.  For  Wonder  is  the  child  of 
Rarity ;  1  and  if  a  thing  be  rare,  though  in  kind  it  be  no  way 
extraordinary,  yet  it  is  wondered  at.  . . .  For  instance,  a  singular 
instance  of  art  is  paper,  a  thing  exceedingly  common. " 

He  proceeds  to  describe  the  nature  and  qualities  of  paper, 
"  as  a  tenacious  substance,  that  may  be  cut  or  torn, "  and  that, 
in  its  resemblance  to  the  skin  of  an  animal,  and  to  the  leaf  of  a 
vegetable,  imitates  Nature's  workmanship;  and  he  winds  up  as 
he  began,  by  pronouncing  paper  to  be  "  altogether  singular.71 

Then,  as  it  would  at  first  seem,  going  off  at  a  tangent  from 


l  Miranda :    "0  brave  new  world  that  hath  such  creatures  in  it ! " 

298 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  299 

his  subject,  he  says:  "  Again,  as  instances  of  the  wit  and  hand  of 
man,  we  must  not  altogether  condemn  juggling  and  conjuring 
tricks.  For  some  of  them,  though,  in  use,  trivial  and  ludicrous, 
yet,  in  regard  to  the  information  they  give,  mag  be  of  much 
value."1 

The  chain  of  ideas  in  this  passage  —  helps  to  the  understanding; 
many  particulars  united;  by  the  wit  and  hands  of  man;  —  these 
helps  illustrated  by  the  masterpieces  and  mysteries  of  the  art  of 
paper-making;  and  these  arts,  again,  connected  with  juggling 
and  tricks,  suggested  to  the  present  writer  the  idea  of  examin- 
ing the  paper  on  which  those  books  are  printed,  and  which  had 
already  been  specially  noted  on  account  of  their  "  Baconian  " 
matter  and  style;  books  which  also  contain  the  numberless  un- 
accountable typographical  peculiarities  which  seem  to  have 
some  relation  to  a  system  of  cipher,  to  be  discussed  in  another 
part  of  this  work. 

A  few  hours  of  study  were  sufficient  to  prove  that  the  very  same 
"method  of  tradition,"  or  system  of  secret  communication, 
which  is  perceptible  in  the  hieroglyphic  pictures  and  wood-cuts, 
hereafter  to  bs  described,  prevails,  though  in  a  simpler  and 
rougher  form,  throughout  the  so-called  "  water-marks"  or 
paper-marks  of  the  Baconian  books,  pamphlets  and  manuscripts. 

It  was  also  found  that  the  use  and  aim  of  these  paper-marks, 
and  their  interpretation,  are  to  be  most  easily  reached  by  means 
of  the  metaphorical  and  parabolical  language  devised  and  taught 
by  Bacon  himself,  and  which  continues  to  be  used,  whether  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously,  not  only  by  his  acknowledged  follow- 
ers, but  by  the  whole  civilised  world.  These  symbols  were 
introduced  with  a  purpose  higher  than  that  of  mere  decoration ; 
they  were,  in  the  first  instance,  used  not  only  as  a  means  of  mut- 
ual recognition,  but  also  for  covertly  instilling  or  asserting  truths 
and  doctrines,  in  days  when  bigotry,  ignorance,  and  persecution 
prevented  the  free  ventilation  of  opinions  and  beliefs.  But  the 
secret  language  of  the  Renaissance  philosophers  requires  a  full 
volume  for  its  elucidation,  so,  for  the  present,  we  must  be  con- 

1  Nov.  Org.  xxxi. 


300  FEANCIS  BACON 

tent  to  limit  inquiry  to  its  simplest  manifestations,  in  the  paper- 
marks  of  their  printed  books  or  manuscripts. 

If  one  thing  more  than  another  can  assure  the  inquirer  into 
these  subjects  that  here  he  has  to  do  with  the  workings  of  a 
secret  society,  it  is  the  difficulty  which  is  encountered  in  all 
attempts  to  extract  accurate  information,  or  to  obtain  really  use- 
ful books  concerning  paper-making,  printing,  and  kindred  crafts. 
In  ordinary  books,  ostensibly  instructive  on  such  matters,  the 
particulars,  however  detailed  and  accurate  up  to  a  certain  point, 
invariably  become  hazy  or  mutually  contradictory,  or  stop  short 
altogether,  at  the  period  when  works  on  the  subject  should  teem 
with  information  as  to  the  origin  of  many  of  our  English  transla- 
tions of  the  Bible,  and  of  the  sudden  outburst  of  literature  and 
science  in  the  sixteenth  century.  This  is  notably  the  case  with 
one  large  and  very  important  work,  Sotheby's  Principia  Typo- 
graphical l  which,  for  no  apparent  cause,  breaks  off  at  the  end  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  and  to  which  there  is  no  true  sequel. 

There  are,  likewise,  at  the  British  Museum  2  eight  folio  vol- 
umes of  blank  sheets  of  water-marked  paper.  But  these  papers 
are  all  of  foreign  manufacture, 3  chiefly  Dutch  and  German,  and 
the  latest  date  on  any  sheet  is  about  the  same  as  that  at  which 
the  illustrations  stop  in  Sotheby's  Principia. 


1  Brit.  Mus.  Press-mark  2050  G.  Principia  Topograph  ica.  The  wood-blocks 
or  xylographic  delineations  of  Scripture  History,  issued  iu  Holland,  Flanders,  and 
Germany  during  the  fifteenth  century,  exemplified  and  considered  in  connec- 
tion with  the  origin  of  printing;  to  which  is  added  an  attempt  to  elucidate  the 
character  of  the  paper-marks  of  the  period.  Sam'l  Leigh  Sotheby.  Printed  by 
Walter  McDowell,  and  sold  by  all  antiquarian  booksellers  and  printers.  1858. 
(Paper-Marks.     See  vol.  iii.) 

2  Since  there  seems  to  be  no  catalogue  accessible  to  the  general  reader,  by 
which  these  volumes  are  traceable,  we  note  the  press-mark  at  the  British  Mu- 
seum "Large  Room,"  318  C. 

3  Two  loose  sheets  are  slipped  between  the  pages  in  two  volumes.  One  is 
classified  as  Pitcher,  the  other  as  Vase.  They  are  specimens  of  the  one-handled 
and  two-handled  pots  of  which  we  have  so  much  to  say.  These  are  English, 
and  we  believe  of  later  date  than  any  of  the  specimens  bound  up  in  the  collec- 
tion. Their  presence  is  again  suggestive.  They  hint  at  the  existence  of  an 
English  collection  somewhere.  Another  particular  points  to  the  same  conclu- 
sion. In  " Paper  and  Paper-making"  by  Richard  Herring,  of  which  the  third 
edition  was  printed  in  1803  (Longmans),  there  are,  on  page  105,  five  illustra- 
tions of  paper-marks.    They  are  all  specimens  of  the  patterns  used  circa  1588 


AND  HIS  SECHET  SOCIETY.  301 

If  it  be  worth  while  to  collect,  classify,  and  catalogue,  in 
handsomely  bound  volumes,  the  water-marked  papers  of  foreign 
countries  before  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century,  one  would 
think  that  it  would  be  of  at  least  equal  interest  and  importance 
to  preserve  a  similar  collection,  such  as  could  easily  be  made 
from  the  papers  manufactured  in  England  circa  1588,  the  date  of 
the  erection  of  the  first  great  paper  mill.  If  such  matters  are 
interesting  or  important  in  other  respects,  it  would  be  natural 
to  suppose  that  literary  experts  would  find  pleasure  and  in- 
struction in  connecting  the  paper  with  the  matter  printed  upon 
it,  and  that  a  collection  of  paper  used  by  the  printers  of  all  the 
greatest  works  published  in  the  reigns  of  Elizabeth  and  James, 
whether  that  paper  was  home-made  or  imported,  would  have 
been  formed  by  the  careful  observers  who  were  so  keen  to 
preserve  the  older  foreign  papers,  which  concern  us  much  less. 

But  such  a  collection,  we  have  been  repeatedly  assured,  does 
not  exist  at  the  British  Museum,  or  indeed  at  any  public  library 
or  museum  to  which  authorities  on  such  subjects  can  —  or  may  — 
direct  us.  l 

During  this  pursuit  of  knowledge  under  difficulties  we  have  con- 
stantly been  told  that  the  subject  is  one  of  deep  interest.  "  In- 
structive, "  "  wide,"  "  complicated,"  "  vast  "  are  the  terms  by 
turns  applied  to  it  by  those  to  whom  we  have  applied  for  help, 
so  that  sometimes  we  have  been  oppressed  and  discouraged  as 
was  perhaps  occasionally  intended)  by  the  apparent  hopeless- 
ness of  following  up  the  quest,  or  of  fathoming  these  mysteri- 
ous difficulties,  which  seemed  to  have  no  bottom. 

But  then  came  comfort.  The  mysteries,  such  as  they  are,  are 
evidently  traditional,  of  no  real  use  to  living  individuals;  no  one 
can  be  personally  interested  in  keeping  them  up,  and  where 


and  later,  and  they  are  numbered  1418,  1446,  1447,  1449,  1450.  These  numbers 
,  evidently  refer  to  a  collection  such  as  we  have  anxiously  sought,  but  which  we 
have  been  repeatedly  assured  is  not  known  to  exist.  That  it  does  exist,  we  have 
not  the  slightest  doubt ;  but  where  is  it,  and  why  is  it  withheld  1 

i  Recently  we  have  been  told  that  the  Trustees  of  the  Bodleian  Library 
at  Oxford  have  secured  a  private  collection  of  the  kind,  concerning  which, 
however,  no  information  is  forthcoming  to  the  present  writer. 


302  FMAtfClS  BACON 

such  mystifications  are  kept  up  the  thing  concealed  is  pretty 
sure  to  be  something  simple  and  easy  to  master  when  once  it  is 
reached.  And  there  must  be  means  of  reaching  it,  because  how 
can  it  be  known  that  these  subjects  of  inquiry  are  either  in- 
structive or  worthy  of  pursuit  unless  some  one  has  studied  and 
pursued  them,  and  discovered  whither  they  tend  ? 

Further  effort,  stimulated  by  reflections  of  this  kind,  have 
not  been  altogether  unrewarded,  and,  although  much  remains 
to  be  cleared  up,  we  trust  that,  regardless  of  scratches,  we  may 
have  broken  such  a  gap  into  the  matter  as  to  secure  an  easier 
passage  for  successors. 

In  A  Chronology  of  Paper  and  Paper -making, ]  there  is  the 
following  entry: 

"1716  —  John  Bagford,  the  most  extraordinary  connoisseur  of 
paper  ever  known,  died  in  England.  His  skill  was  so 
great  that  it  is  said  that  he  could,  at  first  sight,  tell 
the  place  where,  and  the  time  when,  any  paper  was 
made,  though  at  never  so  many  years'  distance.  He 
prepared  materials  for .  a  History  of  Paper-Making, 
which  are  now  in  the  British  Museum,  numbered  5891 
to  5988.  "2 

One  hundred  and  eight  volumes  by  this  extraordinary  con- 
noisseur of  paper  !     The  hint  did  not  remain  unheeded,  and  it  was 


1  Joel  Munsell,  4th  edition,  1870 ;  5th  edition,  1878. 

2  These  form,  in  fact,  part  of  the  Harleian  collection.  For  some  reason  the 
Bagford  portion  has  recently  been  divided.  The  bulk  of  itnow  reposesin  charge  of 
the  librarians  of  the  rare  old  printed  books,  "Large  Room,"  British  Museum. 
The  MS.  portions  are  in  the  MS.  department,  where,  until  lately,  the  whole 
collection  were  bound  together.  Most  of  the  folios  are  scrap-books,  containing 
thousands  of  book  plates  and  wood  cuts,  large  and  small.  Of  these  we  shall 
have  to  speak  by  and  by.  Some  were  moved  from  the  collection  by  order  of 
the  chief  librarian  in  1814  and  in  1828.  These  extracts,  "transferred  to  the 
portfolios  of  the  Print  Room,"  are  not  to  be  found.  There  is  said  to  be  no  rec- 
ord of  them.  Similarly,  the  evidences  of  John  Bagford's  extraordinary  knowl- 
edge of  paper  are  absent  from  these  collections.  Some  folios  are  made  up  of 
paper  bearing  six  or  eight  different  water-marks,  and  there  are  MS.  notes  of 
printers,  which  may  lead  to  further  knowledge.  But  the  whole  collection  gives 
the  impression  that  it  has  been  manipulated  for  purposes  of  concealment,  rather 
than  to  assist  students,  and  the  authorities  at  the  British  Museum  in  no  way 
encourage  the  idea  that  information  on  paper-marks  is  procurable  from  this 
source. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  303 

to  be  hoped  that  at  last  some  true  and  reliable  information  would 
be  forthcoming.    But,  so  far  as  any  fresh  knowledge  concerning 
paper  and  paper-marks  is  concerned,  an  examination  of  many 
of  these  curious  scrap-books  and  note-books  has  proved  disap- 
pointing.   Yet  we  glean  fnrtber  evidence  as  to  the  pains  and 
care  which  in  past  years  have  been  bestowed  upon  the  laying 
of  plans,  and  the  carrying  of  them  out  in  small   details,  for  the 
purpose  of  preventing  these  subjects  from  becoming  public  prop- 
erty ;  for  the  books  bear  silent  witness  that  one  of  two  things 
has  occurred:  Either  the  portions  relating  to  paper  and  paper- 
marks,  their  use  and  interpretation,  have  been  at  some  time 
carefully  eliminated  (and  probably  stored  elsewhere),  or  else 
they  never  were  in  this  collection.    In  the  latter  case,  Joel  Mun- 
sell,  Hearne,  and  others,  must  have  derived  their  information 
about  John  Bagford  and  his  extraordinary  and  almost  unique 
knowledge  of  paper,  i.  e.,  of  paper -marks,  from  some  other 
sources  which  they  do  not  disclose,  but  which  must  be  discov- 
erable.    For  the  present,  we  rest  in  the  persuasion  that  all  these 
"  secrets  "  are  in  the  possession  of  a  certain  Freemason  circle, 
or  perhaps,  more  correctly  speaking,  of  the  paper-makers'  and 
printers'  "  Rings,"  and  since  it  is  not  possible  that  these  can  a 
tale  unfold  of  the  secrets  of  the  printing-house  which   have 
come  to  them  traditionally,  and  under  stringent  vows,  we  must 
be  content,  as  before,  to  grope  and  grub  after  scraps  of  informa- 
tion which,  poor  and  despicable  as  they  may  seem  in  their  dis- 
jointed state,  afford,  when  pieced  together,  a  valuable  contri- 
bution toward  the  "  furniture  "  of  knowledge. 

Ordinary  works,  whether  of  general  information,  or  particular 
instruction  on  matters  connected  with  paper-making,  uniformly 
convey  the  impression  that  "  water-marks  "  are  either  mere 
ornaments  in  the  paper,  or  else  trade-marks  of  the  paper-manu- 
facturer. One  writer  defines  them  as  "  ornamental  figures  in 
wire  or  thin  brass,  sewn  upon  the  wires  of  the  mould,  which, 
like  those  wires,  leave  an  impression,  by  rendering  the  paper, 
where  it  lies  on  them,  almost  translucent. "  l  

l  Objects  in  Art  Manufacture.    Edited  by  Charles  Tomlinson.    No.  1.  Paper. 
Harrison,  1884. 


304  FRANCIS  BACON 

Another  writer,  whose  hook  has  gone  through  several  editions, 
and  who  is  cited  as  an  authority,  distinctly  claims  for  these 
water-marks  that  they  are  trade  signs  analogous  to  those  of  a 
public-house,  a  tea  store  or  a  pawnbroker. 

"  The  curious,  and  in  some  cases  absurd  terms,  which  now 
puzzle  us  so  much,  in  describing  the  different  sorts  and  sizes  of 
paper,  may  frequently  be  explained  by  reference  to  the  paper- 
marks  which  have  been  adopted  at  different  periods.  In  ancient 
times,  when  comparatively  few  people  could  read,  pictures  of 
every  kind  were  much  in  use  where  writing  would  now  be  em- 
ployed. Every  shop,  for  instance,  had  its  sign,  as  well  as  every 
public-house ;  and  those  signs  were  not  then,  as  they  often  are 
now,  only  painted  upon  a  board,  but  were  invariably  actual 
models  of  the  thing  which  the  sign  expressed  —  as  we  still  occa- 
sionally see  some  such  sign  as  a  bee-hive,  a  tea-cannister,  or  a 
doll,  and  the  like. 

"  For  the  same  reason  printers  employed  some  device,  which 
they  put  upon  the  title-pages  and  at  the  end  of  their  books,  and 
paper-makers  also  introduced  marks  by  way  of  distinguishing 
the  paper  of  their  manufacture  from  that  of  others  — which 
marks,  becoming  common,  naturally  gave  their  names  to  differ- 
ent sorts  of  paper. "  l 

These  conclusions  are,  really,  in  no  way  satisfactory.  They 
are  in  direct  opposition  to  facts  which  present  themselves  in 
the  process  of  collecting  these  water-marks  —  facts  such  as 
these : 

1.  That  the  same  designs  are  often  varied  in  the  same  book, 
some  volumes  containing  as  many  as  eight,  twelve,  or  twenty- 
five  variations  of  one  pattern.  (See  Plates,  Ben  Jonson,  Sel- 
den,  etc.) 

2.  That  similar  designs  appear  in  books  of  widely  different 
periods  printed  and  published  by  various  firms,  whilst,  so  far 
as  we  have  found,  they  appear  in  the  MS.  letters  of  only  one 
limited  period. 

3.  That  three  kinds  of  water-marks  (and  so,  according  to 
Herring,  paper  from  three  different  firms)  are  often  found  in  one 
small  book. 


1  "Paper  and    Paper -making"  p.  103,    by   Richard    Herring,    3d    edition, 
1863.     See  also  Dr.  lire's  "  Mi  ties  and  Manufactures" — Paper-making. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  305 

4.  That  these  water-marks,  infinitely  varied  as  they  are,  often 
contain  certain  initial  letters  which  seern  to  connect  them  with 
private  persons,  authors,  or  members  of  a  secret  society. 

5.  That,  even  in  the  present  day,  two  or  three  firms  use  the 
same  designs  in  their  paper-mark. 

These  points,  which  it  is  our  purpose  to  illustrate,  assure  us 
that  it  is  an  error  to  suppose  either  the  most  ancient  or  the  most 
modern  paper-marks  to  be  mere  trade-signs.  True,  that  there 
are  now  some  such  which  have  been  used,  since  the  revival,  as  a 
fashion,  of  the  hand-made  or  rough-edged  paper.  But  these  are 
quite  easily  distinguishable,  and  those  who  follow  us  in  this  in- 
vestigation will  have  no  hesitation  in  deciding  to  which  class 
each  paper  belongs.  On  the  other  nand,  Mr.  Sotheby  arrives, 
from  his  own  point  of  departure,  at  the  same  conclusion  reached 
by  the  present  writer. 

"  I  venture, "  he  says, "  to  assert  that  until,  or  after,  the  close  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  there  were  no  marks  on  paper  which  may 
be  said  to  apply  individually  to  the  maker  of  the  paper. "  With 
Jansen,  he  agrees  that  "  the  study  of  water-marks  is  calcu- 
lated to  afford  pretty  accurate  information  as  to  the  country 
where,  and  the  probable  period  when,  a  book  without  date  or 
place  was  printed.  . . .  Until  toward  the  close  of  the  fifteenth 
century  there  occur  no  marks  in  paper  used  for  the  making  of 
books,  from  which  we  are  led  to  infer  that  they  were  intended 
for  the  motto  or  device  of  the  maker.  That  paper-marks  were, 
or  rather  became  general,  and  not  confined  to  particular  manu- 
factories, is  in  fact  inferrible  from  the  fact  that  we  are  able  to 
trace  similar  marks  in  use  from  the  commencement  to  the  end 
of  the  fifteenth  century. "  In  some  instances  the  varieties  of  the 
same  mark  are,  as  Mr.  Sotheby  says,  so  abundant  that,  "  in- 
stead of  the  eight  plates  engraved  by  Jansen,  it  would  require 
more  than  fifty  plates  of  similar  size  to  give  the  tracings  of  all 
the  varieties  of  even  two  marks ;  the  letter  P,  and  the  «  Bull's 
Head.' . . .  Hence  it  is  that  the  frequent  remark,  l  with  little 
variations,'  is  so  generally  found  in  the  writings  of  all  those, 
even  from  the  earliest  period  to  the  present  time,  who  have 

20 


306  FRANCIS  BACON 

touched  upon  this  subject,  unaccompanied,  hoivevcr,  by  any  at- 
tempt to  account  for  or  explain  them. " 

Here  we  are  reminded  of  the  dictum  of  the  Freemason  Cyclo- 
paedia: "  A  very  minute  difference  may  make  the  emblem  or 
symbol  differ  widely  in  its  meaning, "  and  of  Bacon's  similar 
hint  as  to  the  necessity  for  noting  small  distinctions  in  order  to 
comprehend  great  things  : 

"  Qui  in  par  vis  non  distinguit,  in  magnis  labitur." 

This  he  connects  with  the  following  note : 

"Everything  is  subtile  till  it  be  conceived."  1 

It  is  reasonable  to  attempt  this  explanation  of  the  "  little 
variations  "  that  the  symbol,  whatever  it  maybe  —  a  bull's  head, 
unicorn,  fleur-de-lis,  vine,  or  what  not  —  illustrates  some  single, 
fundamental  doctrine  or  idea.  But  the  "  little  variations  "  may, 
as  Jansen  and  Mr.  Sotheby  agree,  afford  pretty  accurate  infor- 
mation as  to  the  country  where,  and  the  period  when,  the  book 
was  written  or  "  produced. "  They  may  even  indicate  the  paper- 
maker  or  the  printer,  or  that  the  persons  connected  with  the 
writing  of  the  book  were  members  of  a  certain  secret  society. 

"  The  marks  that  are  found  on  the  paper  used  for  the  printing 
of  the  block-books  assigned  to  the  Netherlands  are, "  continues 
Mr.  Sotheby,  "  for  the  most  part  confined  to  the  unicorn,  the 
anchor,  the  bull's  head,  the  letter  P,  the  letter  Y,  2  and,  as  we 
shall  endeavour  to  show,  the  arms  of  the  dynasties  of  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy,  and  their  alliances ;  initials  of  particular  persons, 
and  arms  of  the  popes  and  bishops.    It  must  not,  however,  for 

1  Promus,  186,  187. 

2  In  Principia  Typographica  (vol.  iii.,  Paper-marls),  we  read  that  plain  P 
stood  for  the  initial  of  Philip,  Uuke  of  Burgundy,  surmounted  in  some  cases  by 
the  single  fleur-de-lis,  arms  proper  of  Burgundy,  and  that  in  certain  copies  Y  is 
added  for  Isabella  —  thus,  as  the  author  considers,  proving  the  date.  Students 
will,  we  think,  find  cause  for  doubting  this  explanation  of  the  P  and  Y  so  fre- 
quent in  very  old  books,  and  so  long  used.  In  Hebrew  the  sacred  name  of  God 
is  associated  with  the  letter  P  —  P/ioded,  or  Redeemer.  As  is  well  known,  this 
same  form,  with  a  cross  drawn  through  the  stem,  was  the  sign  adopted  by  the 
first  Christian  emperor  of  Rome,  Constantino  the  Gieat.  The  Roman  church 
still  uses  this  symbol,  so  frequently  seen  stamped  upon  our  books  of  Common 
Prayer.  The  Yis  of  far  greater  antiquity  as  a  symbol,  and  was  held  by  Pythag- 
oras to  signify  the  different  paths  of  virtue  and  vice.  Hence,  says  the  Royal 
Masonic  Cyclopcedia,  it  was  termed  "Litem  Pythagorce.n 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  307 

a  moment  be  supposed  that  no  marks  similar  to  those  we  assign 
to  the  Netherlands  occur  in  books  printed  in  Germany ;  but, 
taking  it  as  a  general  rule,  the  paper  there  used  for  printing 
was,  no  doubt,  confined  to  the  manufactories  of  the  country. " 

These  remarks  do  not  touch  the  matter  of  English  books  and 
paper-marks;  nor  do  they  explain  the  appearance,  simultan- 
eously, or  at  different  periods,  of  the  same  marks  in  different 
countries,  and  sometimes  with  the  names  of  different  paper- 
makers.  * 

If  the  paper  used  for  printing  books  was  usually  made  in  the 
country  where  the  books  were  printed  (and  this  seems  to  be  the 
most  natural  and  reasonable  arrangement),  tben  we  must  in- 
quire at  what  English  mill  was  the  paper  manufactured  which 
was  to  be  the  means  of  transmitting  to  a  world  then  plunged  in 
darkness  and  ignorance  the  myriad-minded  and  many-sided 
literature  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries'? 

As  in  everything  else  connected  with  printing,  the  inquirer  is 
at  once  met  with  difficulties  and  rebuffs.  Authors  contradict 
each  other.  Experts  in  the  trade  plead  ignorance,  or  decline  to 
give  information,  and  once  more  we  arc  obliged  to  perceive  how 
jealously  everything  connected  with  these  matters  is  guarded 
and  screened  from  public  notice  by  the  Freemasons.  The  fol- 
lowing is  extracted  from  the  little  book  by  R.  Herring,  which  we 
have  already  quoted: 

"  With  reference  to  any  particular  time  or  place  at  which  this 
inestimable  invention  was  first  adopted  in  England,  all  re- 
searches into  existing  records  contribute  little  to  our  assist- 
ance, i  The  first  paper-mill  erected  here  is  commonly  attributed 
to  Sir  John  Spielman,  a  German,  who  established  one  in  1588, 
at  Dartford,  for  which  the  honour  of  knighthood  was  afterwards 
conferred  upon  him  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  who  was  also  pleased 
to  grant  him  a  license  '  for  the  sole  gathering,  for  ten  years,  of 
all  rags,  etc.,  necessary  for  the  making  of  such  paper.'  It  is, 
however,  quite  certain  that  paper  mills  were  in  existence  here 


l  The  editor  of  the  Paper-Mills  Directory,  in  his  Art  of  Paper-making, 
(1874),  says  distinctly  that  the  first  paper  mill  in  England  "appeared  in  1498; 
the  second,  Spielman's,  sixty  years  later,"  1558;  a  third  at  Fen  Ditton,  near 
Cambridge,  "  it  it  was  not  erected  just  before." 


308  Mi  AN  CIS  BACON 

long  before  Spielmau's  time,  i  Shakespeare,  in  2  Henry  VI.  (the 
plot  of  which  is  laid  at  least  a  century  previously),  refers  to  a 
paper-mill.  In  fact,  he  introduces  it  as  an  additional  weight  to 
the  charge  which  Jack  Cade  brings  against  Lord  Saye.  '  Thou 
hast/  says  he,  '  most  traitorously  corrupted  the  youth  of  the 
realm,  in  erecting  a  grammar  school,  and  whereas,  before,  our 
fathers  had  no  other  books  but  the  score  and  tally,  thou  hast 
caused  printing  to  be  used,  and,  contrary  to  the  King,  his  crown 
and  dignity,  thou  hast  built  a  paper-mill. '  An  earlier  trace  of 
the  manufacture  in  this  country  occurs  in  a  book2 printed  by 
Caxton,  about  the  year  1490,  in  which  it  is  said  of  John  Tate : 

"  'Which  late  hathe  in  England  doo  make  thya  paper  thynno 
That  now  in  our  Englyssh  thys  booke  is  printed  inne.' 

"  His  mill  was  situate  at  or  near  Stevenage,  in  Hertfordshire; 
and  that  it  was  considered  worthy  of  notice  is  evident  from  an 
entry  made  in  Henry  the  Seventh's  Household  Book,  on  the  25th 
of  May,  1498:  'For  a  reward  given  at  the  paper  mylne  16s.  3d.' 
And  again  in  1499:  '  Geven  in  rewarde  to  Tate  of  the  rnvlne, 
6s.  3d.'  3 

"  Still,  it  appears  far  less  probable  that  Shakespeare  alluded  to 
Tate's  mill  (although  established  at  a  period  corresponding  in 
many  respects  with  that  of  occurrences  referred  to  in  connection) 
than  to  that  of  Sir  John  Spielman. 

"  Standing,  as  it  did,  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the 
scene  of  Jack  Cade's  rebellion,  and  being  so  important  as  to  call 
forth  at  the  time  the  marked  patronage  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  the 
extent  of  the  operations  carried  on  there  was  calculated  to 
arouse,  and  no  doubt  did  arouse,  considerable  national  inter- 
est; and  one  can  hardly  help  thinking,  from  the  prominence 
which  Shakespeare  assigns  to  the  existence  of  a  paper-mill 
(coupled,  as  such  allusion  is,  with  an  acknowledged  liberty,  in- 
herent in  him,  of  transposing  events  to  add  force  to  his  style, 
and  the  very  considerable  doubt  as  to  the  exact  year  in  which 
the  play  was  written),  that  the  reference  made  ivas  to  none  other 


iThe  writer  of  an  article  on  paper  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica  argues, 
with  reason,  that  the  cheap  rate  at  which  paper  was  sold,  even  in  the  inland 
towns  of  England,  in  the  fifteenth  century,  affords  ground  for  assuming  that 
there  was  at  this  time  a  native  industry  in  paper,  and  that  it  was  not  all  im- 
ported. 

2  De  Proprletatibus  Serum,  Wynken  de  Wordes,  edition  1493. 

3  "The  water-mark  used  by  Tate  was  an  eight-pointed  star  within  a  double 
circle.  A  print  of  it  is  given  in  Herbert's  Typis  Antiquit.,  i.  200.  Tate  died 
1514."— J.  Hunsell. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  309 

than  Sir  John   Spielman's  establishment  of  1588,  concerning 
which  we  find  it  said  : 

"  '  Six  hundred  men  are  set  to  work  by  liirn. 

That  else  might  starve  or  seek  abroad  their  bread, 
Who  now  live  well,  and  go  full  brave  and  trim, 
And  who  may  boast  they  are  with  paper  fed. '  "  1 

What  Shakespeare  lover  is  there  who  will  not  recall  the  echo 
of  the  last  words  in  Nathaniel's  answer  to  his  fellow  pedant's 
strictures  upon  the  ignorance  of  Dull,  the  constable : 

Holofernes.     Twice-sod  simplicity,  bis  coctus  ! 
0,  thou  monster  Ignorance,  how  deformed  dost  thou  look ! 

Nathaniel.  Sir;  he  hath  never  fed  of  the  dainties  that  are  bred  in  a  book  ; 
he  hath  not  eat  paper,  as  it  were ;  he  hath  not  drunk  ink:  his  intellect  is 
not  replenished,  etc.  2 

The  supposed  date  of  Love's  Labour's  Lost  is  1588-9,  precisely 
the  date  of  the  establishment  of  our  first  great  mill.  Can  the 
poet,  we  wonder,  have  been  en  rapport  with  the  inditer  of  the 
lines  quoted  by  Herring  (who,  by  the  way,  omits  to  say  whence 
he  quotes  them)  —  and  which  of  the  two  poets,  if  there  were 
two,  originated  the  notion  of  men  being  fed  with  paver  f 

The  omissions  of  Richard  Herring,  quite  as  much  as  his  state- 
ments, raise  in  our  mind  various  misgivings  and  suspicions 
concerning  him  and  the  information  which  he  gives.  Does  this 
writer  know  more  than  he  "professes"  to  know?  Are  these 
remarks,  in  which  he  draws  in  Shakespeare,  hints  to  the  initi- 
ated reader  as  to  the  true  facts  of  the  case  ?  Like  the  Rosicru- 
cians,  we  cannot  tell;  but  recent  research  leads  us  more  and 
more  to  discredit  the  notion  that  particulars  such  as  these  about 
the  establishment  of  the  first  English  paper-mill  are  unknown 
to  those  whom  they  chiefly  concern ;  or  that  shifting,  shadowy, 
contradictory  statements,  of  the  kind  quoted  above,  would 
pass  unchallenged,  were  it  not  that  an  excellent  mutual  under- 
standing exists  between  the  writer  and  his  expert  readers. 


1  Herring,  pp.  41-44.     See  also  A  Chronology  of  Paper  and  Paper-mak'uuj,  by 
Joel  ilunsell,  fourth  edition,  1870. 
2  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  iv.  2. 


310  FBANCIS  BACON 

If,  speaking  from  without  the  charmed  circle,  we  are  expected 
to  declare  an  express  opinion  regarding  these  things,  it 
must  be  after  this  kind:  Whatever  paper-mills  may  have  existed 
in  England  before  the  erection  of  Sir  JobnSpielman's  at  Dartford, 
they  must  have  been  small,  private  (perhaps  attached  to  relig- 
ious houses),  employed  only  in  the  manufacture  of  ivriting  pa- 
per, and  at  all  events  quite  inadequate  to  Bacon's  purposes 
wben  he  "  was  for  volumes  in  folio,"  when  he  "  feared  to  glut 
the  world  with  his  writings,"  and  when  the  "  Reformation  of  the 
whole  wide  world"  was  to  be  attempted  by  means  of  the  press. 
The  erection  of  the  first  great  paper-mill  in  England  is  almost 
coincident  with  the  establishment  of  the  great  printing-houses, 
whose  first  and  noblest  work  was  the  printing  and  publication 
of  the  Bible  in  nearly  every  language  of  the  globe.         , 

"  It  is  certain  that  printing  was  the  great  instrument  of  the 
Reformation  in  Germany,  and  of  spreading  it  throughout 
Europe ;  it  is  equally  certain  that  the  making  of  paper,  by 
means  of  the  cotton  or  flaxen  fibre,  supplied  the  only  material 
which  has  been  found  available  for  printing.  "Whether  this  co- 
incidence was  simply  accidental,  or  was  the  effect  of  that  high 
arrangement  for  high  purposes  which  we  so  often  find  in 
the  history  of  Providence,  may  be  left  to  the  consideration  of  the 
Christian.  But  it  is  evident  that  if  printing  had  been  invented 
in  any  of  the  earlier  ages,  it  would  have  been  comparatively 
thrown  away.  .  .  .  But  at  the  exact  period  when  printing  was 
given  to  the  world,  the  fabric  was  also  given  which  was  to  meet 
the  broadest  exigency  of  that  most  illustrious  invention."  1 

And  who  in  those  days  had  reason  to  know  these  things  bet- 
ter than  Francis  Bacon  ?  Who  more  likely  than  he  to  have 
inspired  the  enterprise  of  erecting  the  great  paper-mill  which 
was  to  serve  as  an  "  instance  of  the  wit  or  hands  of  man, "  and 
to  be  ranked  by  him  amongst  "  Helps  to  the  Understanding  in 
the  Interpretation  of  Nature  "  1 

Bacon  never  uttered  opinions  on  subjects  which  he  had  not 
studied.  Neither  did  he  exhort  others  to  undertake  works  which 
he  had  in  no  way  attempted.    When,  therefore,  we  find  him 

1  Dr.  Croly's  introduction  to  Paper  and  Paper  making,  p.  xii. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  311 

saying  that  all  mechanical  arts  should  be  sought  out  and  thor- 
oughly inspected,  and  when,  within  a  few  lines,  he  associates 
these  remarks  with  the  masterpieces  and  mysteries  of  the  art  of 
paper -making,  no  shadow  of  doubt  remains  on  our  mind  as  to 
his  own  intimate  knowledge  and  observation  of  the  processes  in 
the  recently  established  paper-mill. 

Going  forward  into  the  regions  of  speculation  or  anticipation, 
we  can  quite  conceive  that  when  Mr.  Donnelly's  cipher  system 
shall  be  brought  to  bear  on  the  second  part  of  the  play  of 
Henry  VI.,  it  will  be  found  that  the  erection  of  this  mill  is 
recorded  in  cipher.  This  seems  to  be  the  more  probable  because 
it  appears  that,  flve-and-thirty  or  forty  years  ago,  it  was  asserted 
by  the  then  occupier  of  North  Newton  Mill,  near  Banbury,  in 
Oxfordshire,  that  this  was  the  first  paper-mill  erected  in  Eng- 
land, and  that  it  was  to  this  mill  that  Shakespeare  referred  in 
the  passage  just  quoted  ;  and  further  (take  note,  my  readers)  — 
this  Banbury  mill  ivas  the  property  of  Lord  Saye  and  Sele. 

Now,  although  the  late  Lord  Saye  and  Sele  distinctly  dis- 
credited the  story  of  this  mill  taking  precedence  of  Sir  John 
Spielman's,  by  showing  that  the  first  nobleman  succeeding  to 
that  title  who  had  property  in  Oxfordshire  was  the  son  of  the 
first  Lord  Saye, 1  yet  it  is  a  coincidence  not  to  be  overlooked, 
that  the  Lord  Saye  and  Sele  of  modern  times  should  possess  a 
paper-mill  with  the  tradition  attached  to  it  of  its  being  the 
mythical  mill  alluded  to  by  Shakespeare. 

The  perplexity  involved  in  these  statements  seems  to  be  dis- 
entangled if  we  may  venture  to  surmise  that  the  cryptographer 
had  to  introduce  into  his  play  a  sketch  of  the  history  of  Eng- 
land's first  great  mills,  erected  in  1588,  for  the  manufacture  of 
paper  for  printed  books.  2  The  other  small  mills  (which,  for  our 
own  part,  we  think,  did  previously  exist)  were  probably  private 
establishments,  producing  paper  for  the  special  use  of  religious 

1  Shakespeare's  reference  is  to  the  first  Lord  Saye ;  there  is  no  hint  or  sus- 
picion that  his  son  had  anything  to  do  with  a  paper-mill. 

2  Note  Cade's  words:  "  Whereas,  before,  our  forefathers  had  no  other  booh 
but  the  score  and  the  tally,  thou  hast  caused  ■printina  to  be  used."  (2  Hen. 
VI.,iY.7.)  '  l  X 


312  FEANCIS  BACON 

houses,  for  state  papers,  or  for  the  letters  and  other  documents 
of  important  personages.  In  short,  the  earlier  paper  was,  so 
far  as  we  may  yet  judge,  writing  paper,  too  expensive  to  be  used 
for  books,  but,  as  a  rule,  substituted,  in  important  documents, 
for  the  costly  parchment  and  vellum  of  earlier  times. 

It  strikes  us  as  a  curious  thing  that,  when  our  expert  instructor 
comes  to  the  point  at  which  he  affords  some  "  general  observa- 
tions1 on  what  are  termed  toater -marks,"  he  should,  for  the 
second  time,  be  drawn  to  illustrate  his  subject  by  circum- 
stances connected  with  Shakespeare.  Having  briefly  com- 
mented upon  the  use  which  has  sometimes  been  made  of  water- 
marks in  the  detection  of  frauds,  monkish  or  legal,  he  continues 
in  a  long  passage,  which  we  abridge: 

"  A  further  illustration  of  the  kind  occurs  in  a  work  entitled, 
Ireland's  Confessions,  respecting  his  fabrication  of  the  Shake- 
speare manuscripts,  —  a  literary  forgery  even  more  remarkable 
than  that  which  is  said  to  have  been  perpetrated  by  Chatterton, 
as  '  Rowley's  Poems.'  .  .  .  This  gentleman  tells  us  that  the 
sheet  of  paper  which  he  used  was  the  outside  of  several  others, 
on  some  of  which  accounts  had  been  kept  in  the  reign  of  Charles 
the  First;  and  '  being  at  the  time  wholly  unacquainted  with  the 
water-marks  used  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  I  carefully  selected 
two  half  sheets,  not  having  any  mark  whatever,  on  which  I 
penned  my  first  effusion.'  " 

After  relating,  with  a  naivete  which  borders  on  the  comical, 
the  way  in  which,  by  a  payment  of  five  shillings  to  a  bookseller 
named  Verey,  the  narrator  obtained  permission  to  take  from  all 
the  folio  and  quarto  volumes  in  his  shop  the  fly-leaves  which 
they  contained,  "  by  which  means  I  was  stored  with  that  com- 
modity,"  Ireland  goes  on  to  say  that  the  quiet,  unsuspecting 
disposition  of  the  bookseller  would,  he  was  convinced,  never 
lead  him  to  make  the  transaction  public. 

"  As  I  was  fully  aware,  from  the  variety  of  water-marks  which 
are  in  existence  at  the  present  day,  that  they  must  have  con- 
stantly been  altered  since  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  and  being  for 
some  time  wholly  unacquainted  with  the  water-marks  of  that 

1  They  are  rightly  described  as  general. 


AXD  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  313 

age,  I  very  carefully  produced  my  first  specimens  of  the  writing 
on  such  sheets  of  old  paper  as  had  no  marks  whatever.  Having 
heard  it  frequently  stated  that  the  appearance  of  such  marks 
on  the  papers  would  have  greatly  tended  to  establish  their  va- 
lidity, I  listened  attentively  to  every  remark  which  was  made 
upon  the  subject,  and  from  thence  I  at  length  gleaned  the  intelli- 
gence that  a  jug  ivas  the  prevalent  water-mark  of  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth,  i  in  consequence  of  which  I  inspected  all  the  sheets  of 
old  paper  then  in  my  possession,  and,  having  selected  such  as  had 
the  jug  upon  them,  I  produced  the  succeeding  manuscripts  upon 
these,'  being  careful,  however,  to  mingle  with  them  a  certain 
number  of  blank  leaves,  that  the  production  on  a  sadden  of  so 
many  water-marks  might  not  excite  suspicion  in  the  breasts  of 
those  persons  who  were  most  conversant  with  the  manuscripts." 

"  Thus,"  continues  our  guide,  "  this  notorious  literary  forgery, 
through  the  cunning  ingenuity  of  the  perpetrator,  ultimately 
proved  so  successful  as  to  deceive  many  learned  and  able  critics 
of  the  age.  Indeed,  on  one  occasion,  a  kind  of  certificate  was 
drawn  up,  stating  that  the  undersigned  names  were  affixed  by 
gentlemen  who  entertained  no  doubt  whatever  as  to  the  valid- 
ity of  the  Shakspearian  production,  and  that  they  voluntarily 
gave  such  public  testimony  of  their  convictions  upon  the  sub- 
ject. To  this  document  several  names  were  appended  by  per- 
sons as  conspicuous  for  their  erudition  as  they  were  pertinacious 
in  their  opinions. "  2 

And  so  the  little  accurate  information  which  is  vouchsafed  to  us 
poor  "profani,"  standing  in  the  outer  courts,  the  few  acorns 
which  are  dropped  for  our  nourishment  from  the  wide-spreading 
tree  of  knowledge,  begin  and  end  in  Shakespeare.  In  Shake- 
speare we  read  of  the  erection  of  the  first  great  paper-mill  — 
an  anachronism  being  perpetrated  to  facilitate  the  record.  In 
the  forged  Shakespeare  manuscripts,  the  workings  of  that  same 
paper-mill,  and  the  handing  down  of  Bacon's  lamp  of  tradition, 
are  even  now  to  be  seen.  These  signs  are  so  sure  as  to  have 
gulled  the  learned,  "  as  conspicuous  for  their  erudition  as  for 
their  pertinacity. " 


l  Readers  are  invited  to  bear  in  mind  this  sentence  in  italics. 
1  Po.jw  and  Pa^er-maldnr/,  p.  iii. 


314  FRANCIS  BACON 

What  farther  need  have  we  of  arguments  to  show  that  the 
true  history  of  our  paper-marks,  and  their  especial  value  and 
importance,  was  perfectly  well-known  to  the  learned  of  two 
generations  ago  1  Are  we  prepared  to  believe  that  such  accurate 
knowledge  is  now  lost?  Surely  not.  The  Freemasons,  and 
more  particularly  the  Rosicrucians,  could  tell  us  all  about  it. 
But,  though  they  could  if  they  might,  they  may  not.  There- 
fore, let  us  persevere,  and  seek  for  ourselves  to  trace,  classify, 
and  interpret  the  multitudinous  paper-marks  which  are  to  be 
found  onward  from  the  date  at  which  Mr.  Sotheby  has  thought 
fit  to  cut  off  our  supplies. 

As  to  other  works,  we  have  given  the  names  of  a  few  from 
which,  out  of  an  infinite  deal  of  nothing,  we  have  picked  a  few 
grains  of  valuable  matter  hidden  in  a  bushel  of  chaff.  But,  in- 
deed, the  reader,  if  he  "  turns  to  the  library,  will  wonder  at  the 
immense  variety  of  books  which  he  sees  there  on  our  subjects, 
and,  after  observing  their  endless  repetitions,  and  how  men  are 
ever  saying  what  has  been  said  before,  he  will  pass  from  admi- 
ration of  the  variety  to  astonishment  at  the  poverty  and  scanti- 
ness of  the  subjects;  "  and  he  will  agree  that  "  it  is  nowise 
strange  if  opinion  of  plenty  has  been  the  cause  of  want ;  ...  for 
by  the  crafts  and  artifices  of  those  who  have  handled  and  trans- 
mitted sciences,  these  have  been  set  forth  with  such  parade, 
and  brought  them  into  the  world  so  fashioned  and  masked  as  if 
they  were  complete  in  all  parts,  and  finished.  .  .  .  The  divisions 
seem  to  embrace  and  comprise  everything  which  can  belong  to 
the  subject.  And  although  these  divisions  are  ill-filled  and 
empty  cases,  still,  to  the  common  mind  they  present  the  form  of 
a  perfect  science. "  Bacon  goes  on  to  show  how  the  most  ancient 
seekers  after  truth  set  to  work  in  a  different  way  by  storing  up 
short  opinions  and  scattered  observations  which  did  not  profess 
to  embrace  the  whole  art.  "  But  as  the  matter  now  is,  it  is 
nothing  strange  if  men  do  not  seek  to  advance  in  things  deliv- 
ered to  them  as  long  since  perfect  and  complete."  * 

The  early  paper-marks  were  very  rude  and  irregular.    They 

l.NTov.  Org.  I.  lxxxvi. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  315 

did  not  greatly  improve  until  the  time  of  the  Bacons  and  the 
Renaissance.  Still,  they  were  common  in  all  the  manuscripts 
(whether  books,  letters,  or  other  documents)  which  issued  from 
religious  houses,  and  as  socn  as  printing  began,  then  also  began 
to  appear  these  marks  in  printed  books  published  on  the  con- 
tinent, and  on  foreign  paper  imported  into  England. 

But,  rough  as  the  early  paper-marks  are,  from  the  very  first 
they  had  a  meaning;  and  so  distinctly  are  they  symbolic,  so 
indubitably  is  their  symbolism  religious,  that  it  would  seem 
strange  and  incongruous  to  meet  with  them  equally  in  the  vari- 
ous editions  of  the  Bible,  and  in  the  early  editions  of  the  masques 
and  plays  of  the  Elizabethan  period,  were  there  not  strong  evi- 
dence that  these,  and  scores  of  other  secular  works,  were  brought 
out  by  a  society  established  with  a  high  religious  purpose,  and 
which,  guided  by  Bacon's  "  great  heart"  aud  vast  intellect,  was 
bent  upon  ameliorating  the  condition  of  the  world  to  its  lowest 
depths,  aud  by  the  simplest  and  least  obtrusive  methods. 

Bacon  drew  no  hard  and  fast  line  between  religious  and  secu- 
lar, or  between  good  and  evil,  in  things,  in  individuals,  or  in 
ideas.  He  thought  that  Nature,  aud  pre-eminently  human 
nature,  were  "  biform,"  a  mixture  of  the  earthy  and  the  spirit- 
ual. Man,  he  said,  is  of  all  creatures  the  most  compounded; 
and,  knowing  this,  he  appealed  by  turns,  in  the  multifarious 
works  which  he  wrote  for  man's  instruction  or  recreation,  to  the 
many  sides  of  the  human  mind,  aud  of  nature;  to  the  dull  ani- 
mal who  could  take  in  ideas  only  through  the  eye  and  the  ear, 
in  dumb  shows,  masques,  or  stage  plays,  as  to  the  bright,  keen 
intellect  of  the  man  whose  brain  he  compares  to  a  diamond  cut 
with  many  facets. 

Everywhere,  and  by  all  means,  he  would  endeavour  to  raise 
"  man,  who  by  his  body  is  akin  to  the  brute, "  to  the  higher  and 
more  spiritual  level,  where  he  would  be,  in  some  degree,  "  akin 
to  the  image  of  God. " 

So,  when  we  find  within  the  pages  of  Every  Man  in  His  Hu- 
mour and  Bartholomew  Fair  the  sacred  symbols    of  the  vine, 


316  FRANCIS  BACON 

and  the  pot  of  manna,  we  may  reflect  that  this  is  no  mere  acci- 
dent, no  advertisement  of  the  firm  who  manufactured  the  paper. 
These  are  some  of  the  many  records  handed  down  by  good 
Baconians  of  their  "  great  master's  "  desire  to  draw  together 
the  most  opposite  ends  of  human  society,  and  human  thought, 
and  to  mingle  with  the  coarsest  earthy  matter  some  bright  and 
imperishable  grains  of  the  heavenly  gold  of  truth  and  knowl- 
edge. 

Let  us  turn  to  the  plates  of  illustrations,  of  which  a  complete 
catalogue  will  be  found  appended  to  this  volume. 

There  we  see,  first,  a  reduced  mark  from  Jansen's  Essai  sur 
VOrigine  de  la  Gravure,  etc.  Jansen  records  that  this  is  the  earli- 
est mark  known;  it  occurs,  says  Mr.  Sotheby,  "  in  an  account 
book  dated  1301 ;  a  circle  or  a  globe  surmounted  with  a  cross ! 
A  mark  that  is  capable  of  suggesting  much  to  the  mind  of  a 
Christian."i 

Probably  the  scarabeus  forms  (of  which  several  may  be  seen  on 
the  plate)  are  not  so  capable  of  suggestion  to  most  minds  as 
the  former  symbol,  but  their  deep  signification  is  interesting, 
and  should  lead  us  to  search  into  the  origin  of  these  mystical 
marks,  admiring  the  wonderful  way  in  which  the  wisdom  of  the 
earliest  antiquity  endeavoured  to  inform  and  teach,  whilst  the 
minds  of  men  were  too  childish  and  uncultivated  to  receive 
truths  except  in  the  form  of  a  picture  or  of  a  story. 

That  the  matters  to  be  instilled  were  in  many  cases  eternal 
truths,  thoughts  and  doctrines  of  the  most  sublime  description, 
is  seen  in  that  these  very  same  symbols,  with  a  deeper  intensity 
of  meaning,  and  with  further  light  shed  upon  them,  have  been, 
in  various  forms,  passed  on  from  one  nation  to  another,  from  gen- 
eration to  generation;  adopted  and  modified  to  suit  the  require- 
ments of  religious  expression  in  many  different  forms  of  worship. 
However  the  external  appearance  may  shadow  or  disguise  the 
true  substance,  there  are  found  in  these  symbols  the  same 
fundamental  ideas,  the  same  great  universal  doctrines  and  con- 


1  Principle*,,  iii.  10. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  317 

ceptions  of  the  one  God  —  all-knowing,  all-powerful,  ever  pres- 
ent—  of  His  divine  humanity,  or  manifestation  in  the  flesh,  of 
His  Holy  Spirit,  comforting,  sustaining,  inspiring.  The  mystic- 
al teaching  of  the  universal  church  of  Christ  was  shown  first 
as  in  a  shadow  or  from  behind  a  curtain,  then  with  increasing 
clearness,  until  it  reached  its  full  development  in  the  light  of 
Christianity.  Now  with  regard  to  the  Egyptian  beetle  or  ellip- 
tical form,  introduced  into  the  secret  water-marks  of  Christian 
books.  The  beetle  or  scarabeus,  like  the  peacock,  or  the  iris, 
was,  on  account  of  its  burnished  splendour  and  varied  colours,  a 
symbol  of  the  Heavenly  Messenger.  In  many  cases  it  was 
synonymous  with  the  mystic  Phoenix  and  Phanes,  or  Pan  —  an- 
other name  for  the  Messenger  or  Holy  Spirit.  The  Phoenix  was 
supposed  to  return  every  six  hundred  years,  upon  the  death  of 
the  parent  bird,  and  thus  it  exemplified  the  perpetual  destruc- 
tion and  reproduction  of  the  world.  The  scarabeus,  like  the 
Phoenix,  was  the  symbol  of  both  a  messenger  and  of  a  regener- 
ated soul.  It  was  the  most  frequent  impression  upon  seals  and 
rings  in  ancient  Egypt,  and  hence  the  insignia  of  the  Apocalyp- 
tic Messenger,  the  "  Seal-opener." 

With  such  hints  as  these,  it  is  easy  to  see,  not  only  why  the 
old  religious  writers  and  secret  societies  used  this  scarabeus, 
mixed  with  the  cross  and  other  Christian  symbols,  but,  also,  the 
cause  and  meaning  of  the  extensive  adoption  of  elliptical  forms 
in  engraved  portraits  in  the  mural  tablets,  monuments,  and 
frames  to  memorial  busts,  on  the  tombs  of  the  Rosicrucians  and 
their  friends.  These  memorials,  when  in  black  with  gold  letter- 
ing (typifying  light  out  of  darkness),  reproduce  absolutely  the 
ancient  idea  adopted  and  assimilated  by  the  Rosicrucians,  of  the 
perfect  regenerate  soul,  destined  by  God  to  show  forth  His 
praises,  who  had  called  him  out  of  darkness  into  His  glorious 
light !  i 

Where  the  orb  or  globe  and  the  ellipse  are  united  with  the 
cross,  or  where  the  undulating  water-line  on  an  ill-drawn  circle 


l  Pot.  ii.  9.    The  ellipse  bore  in  ancient  symbolism  the  same  interpretation 
as  the  beetle. 


318  FRANCIS  BACON 

represents  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  waters  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth,  Bacon's  idea  is  before  us  of  the  "  mingling  earth  with 
heaven,"  which  was  his  dream,  and  his  perpetual  endeavour. 

The  few  specimens  which  are  given  of  the  various  and  fre- 
quent unicorns  and  panthers,  or  dogs,  as  ecclesiastical  symbols, 
are  curious  not  only  from  their  quaintness,  and  the  persistent 
manner  in  which,  by  one  device  or  another,  they  exhibit  the 
emblems  of  the  church,  but  also  because  here  in  the  anchors  we 
see  spots  which  should  incite  inquiry.  These  have  been  explained 
as  caused  by  the  crossing  or  junction  of  wires  in  the  paper- 
mark,  but  this  explanation  seems  to  be  unsatisfactory,  consider- 
ing the  position  of  the  spots.  They  are  usually  in  places  where 
wires  do  not  cross;  and  what  is  to  be  said  of  the  unicorn  (Plate 
II.,  fig.  1)  with  a  line  through  his  head?  Do  not  these  dots 
suggest  to  the  cryptographic  expert  some  of  the  many  systems 
by  which  words  can  be  spelt  out,  or  information  conveyed,  by 
means  of  counting,  or  by  the  relative  position  of  dots? 

The  nearest  approach  to  the  figure  of  a  dog  which  we  have 
found  in  Baconian  times  is  the  nondescript  creature  in  Plate  II., 
fig.  8.  This  is  in  some  letters  in  Anthony  Bacon's  correspond- 
ence. 1  It  seems  to  be  intended  to  delude  the  eye  as  a  serpent, 
but  to  be  really  the  sacred  horn,  combined  with  the  head  of  the 
dog  or  hound,  in  Hindu  symbolism  a  type  of  the  messenger  of 
truth. 

Serpents  or  serpentine  lines  are  very  frequent  in  early  paper- 
marks,  usually  in  combination  with  a  cross,  an  anchor,  or  a 
Mercury's  rod;  they  are  conspicuous  in  the  large  collection  of 
bull's-head  water-marks  which  fill  a  folio  volume  in  the  British 
Museum.  2 

Bulls'  heads  in  every  conceivable  variety  of  size  and  arrange- 
ment, in  every  degree  of  good  and  bad  drawing,  prevail 
throughout  most  of  the  MS.  Bibles  of  the  fourteenth  and  fif- 
teenth centuries.    Bulls  with  two  eyes,  or  with   one  or  none, 


ITenisonMSS.,  Lambeth  Palace. 
2  Pressmark  318  C.  vol.  vii. 


AXD  1I1S  SECRET  SOCIETY.  319 

with  horns  flat  or  exalted;  curved  like  the  crescent  moon,  or 
rounded  like  leaves.  Bulls  with  bland  expressions  and  regular 
features,  formed  by  the  adroit  arrangement  of  a  fleur-de-lis  for 
eyes,  nose  and  mouth.  Bulls  with  a  Greek  cross  growing  out  at 
the  tops  of  their  heads,  or  a  Mercury's  rod  entwined  with  a  ser- 
pent descending  from  their  chins,  and  terminated  by  various 
symbols,  as  the  triangle,  the  figure  4,  the  rose  or  five-petaled 
flower,  the  fleur-de-lis,  or  the  so-called  Templar's  or  Maltese 
cross.  Ubiquitous  as  this  mark  is  in  the  old  paper  of  the  conti- 
nent before  the  days  of  printing,  and  although  fine  specimens 
may  be  seen  of  it  in  letters  from  foreign  ecclesiastics  and  states- 
men, in  Cotton's  collection  of  Baconian  MSS.,  we  have  not  yet 
found  one  specimen  in  an  English  printed  book.  Special  atten- 
tion is,  however,  drawn  to  it  because  we  are  sure  that  this  bull's 
head,  more  and  more  disguised,  was,  in  England  especially, 
changed  into  the  mock  shields  which  pervade  Baconian  litera- 
ture, and  which,  as  we  will  presently  show,  are  used  in  the 
present  day  by  the  same  society  which  introduced  them  three 
hundred  years  ago.  l 

This  paper-mark  is  peculiarly  interesting,  and  to  the  present 
purpose  as  a  forcible  witness  to  the  fact  that  the  origin  and 
meaning  of  these  marks  is  distinctly  religious,  and  the  symbolism 
of  the  mediaeval  and  modern  churches  in  direct  and  legitimate 
descent  from  that  of  the  most  ancient  forms  of  worship,  when 
men,  groping  after  truth,  sought  for  means  by  which  they 
might  make  visible,  to  those  who  were  more  dull  and  dark  than 
themselves,  thoughts  and  aspirations  which  they  had  hardly 
words  to  express,  or  their  hearers  intelligence  to  comprehend. 

The  bull  was  one  of  the  most  ancient  Indian  and  Egyptian 
emblems  of  God;  a  symbol  of  patience,  strength,  and  persistency 
in  effort.  It  is  said  to  be  in  consequence  of  these  attributes  of 
the  bull  that  Taurus  became  the  appointed  zodiacal  sign 
at  the  vernal  equinox;  and  under  that  sign  God  was  adored  as 
The  Sun,  or  the  Bull. 

1  The  bull  is  considered  by  Janscn  to  distinguish  books  by  Fust.  The  single 
head  belongs  to  Germanv. 


320  FRANCIS  BACON 

We  read  iu  the  Bible  how  the  Jews,  despairing  of  the  return 
of  Moses  from  the  mount,  wished  to  make  for  themselves  the  im- 
age of  a  god  who  should  lead  them  through  the  desert,  and  cast 
out  the  ungodly  from  before  them.  To  this  end  they  melted 
down  their  golden  ornaments,  and  made  the  shape  of  a  calf  or 
bull,  i 

The  bull's  head,  although  not  reproduced  in  England  in  its 
original  form,  was  and  is,  as  has  been  said,  preserved  in  dis- 
guise. Plates  IV.  and  V.  show  a  few  of  the  many  patterns  of 
these  disguised  heads  in  mock  shields.  They  are  exceedingly 
various  and  frequent  in  Baconian  works,  and  in  editions  of  the 
Bible  of  which  Bacon,  we  think,  superintended  the  revision  and 
publication.  A  comparison  of  the  specimens  given  from  the 
1632  edition  of  Shakespeare,  the  works  of  "  Joseph  Mede, "  1677, 
and  the  modern-contemporary  water-mark  used  by  L.  Van  Gel- 
der  (Plate  V.)  will  explain  our  meaning.  In  Van  Gelder's  paper 
the  bull's  head  is  clearly  discernible,  and  so  is  the  mutual 
connection  between  this  and  the  earlier  marks.  In  the  speci- 
mens from  the  "  Diodati  "  Bible,  1648,  there  is  the  same  general 
effect  as  in  those  from  the  Shakespeare  of  1623,  and  Bacon's 
works  1638.  Certain  particulars  are  never  failing  —  indications 
of  horns,  eyes,  and  in  some  cases  protuberant  ears.  Doubtless 
these  mock  shields  were  intended  to  pass  with  the  profane 
vulgar  for  coats  of  arms  of  some  great  personage,  as  Jansen  and 
Sotheby  would  lead  us  to  think  them.  But  a  pennyworth  of 
observation  will  correct  this  notion.  The  sacred  symbols  of  the 
fleur-de-lis,  the  trefoil,  cross,  horns,  pearls,  and  diamonds,  with 
the  sacred  monograms,  numbers,  and  mystic  or  cabalistic 
marks,  show  plainly  whence  the  old  paper-maker  derived 
them. 


i  It  is  said  by  some  learned  authorities  that  there  seems  to  have  been  con- 
fusion in  words,  and  that  the  Greeks  put  into  Greek  characters  the  Egyptian 
Ma-v-oein,  which  means  the  place  of  light,  or  the  sun.  (See  commentary  ou  the 
Apocalypse,  iii.  317.)  But  even  this  error,  if  it  exists,  only  serves  to  show 
more  clearly  the  close  connection  in  the  minds  of  the  translators  of  Holy  Writ 
between  the  most  ancient  religious  symbols  and  those  which  they  themselves 
employed.  Bacon  shows,  in  his  Essay  of  Pan,  the  connection  in  parabolic 
language  between  horns  and  rays. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  321 

la  the  Bible  horns  are  frequently  used  as  emblems  of  pushing 
and  conquest.  Tbey  are,  as  we  see  on  the  Nineveh  marbles  at 
the  British  Museum,  signs  of  prophet,  priest,  and  king.  In  many 
emblem  pictures  the  idea  of  omnipotence  is  so  mixed  up  with 
the  further  god-like  attributes  of  omniscience,  omnipresence, 
and  universal  beneficence,  that  it  is  often  difficult  to  decide 
whether  the  design  is  most  suggestive  of  the  horns  of  power,  the 
rays  of  spiritual  and  intellectual  light,  or  the  cornucopia)  of 
Abundance.  Sometimes  serpents  or  serpentine  lines  found  in 
connection  with  the  bull,  the  cross,  and  the  anchor  are  (espe- 
cially in  connection  with  wood-cuts)  so  rendered  as  to  suggest  the 
same  mixed  symbolism. 

To  the  mystics  in  India  and  Greece,  as  well  as  to  the  ecclesi- 
astics of  the  middle  ages,  and  the  philosophers  of  the  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth  centuries,  the  serpent  of  eternity  was  the  sign 
of  God,  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  symbol  is  retained  in  the  stained 
glass  of  our  church  windows,  and  in  emblematic  designs  from 
the  Apocalypse,  where  St.  John  the  Divine  is  distinguished  by 
the  chalice  whence  issues  the  serpent,  typifying  wisdom,  or  rea- 
son and  speech,  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit. 

In  the  caduceus  of  Mercury,  whilst  the  symbolism  is  somewhat 
changed,  the  idea  is  similar.  The  rod  is  said  formerly  to  have 
been  a  scroll  or  ancient  book,  and  the  two  serpents  entwined  round 
it  typify  everlasting  wisdom.  It  is  likewise  the  emblem  of  peace ; 
for  Mercury  (according  to  pagan  mythology),  finding  two  serpents 
fighting,  reconciled  them  by  a  touch  of  his  wand,  and  thencefor- 
ward bore  this  symbol  of  reconciliation.  This  is  held  to  figure 
the  harmonising  force  of  religion,  which  can  tame  even  the  ven- 
omous and  cold-blooded  snakes.  The  same  line  of  thought  may 
be  followed  up  in  Bacon's  Essay  of  Orpheus,  and  in  other  places 
where  he  expounded  his  own  views  of  the  best  methods  for 
"  tuning  discords  to  a  concord." 

The  old  bugle  mark,  of  which  innumerable  instances  are  found 

in  old  letters  and  MS.  books,  and  which  is  in  use  at  the  present  day, 

seems  to  have  been  originally  derived  from  the  bull  and  his  horns. 

In  the  first  instance,  associated  with  the  conception  of  the  Su- 

i 


322  FBA  NCIS  E>A  CON 

preme  Being  and  His  universal  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  it 
became,  after  a  time,  the  bugle  or  trumpet  which  was  to  call 
forth  men  to  their  duties  —  the  Ecclesia  —  called  out  to  do 
especial  service  for  God  and  for  Humanity.  1 

Bacon  and  his  friends  adopted  this  bugle  or  trumpet,  and,  giv- 
ing it  an  additional  or  secondary  significance,  assimilated  it  in 
their  hieroglyphic  pictures  and  their  parabolic  phraseology. 
Bacon  is  about  to  treat  of  the  "  Division  of  the  Doctrine  concern- 
ing Man  into  the  Philosophy  of  Humanity  and  Philosophy 
Civil. "    He  shows  throughout  this  chapter,  as  elsewhere,  that 

"  The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man," 
and  this  is  his*prologue  : 

"  If  any  one  should  aim  a  blow  at  me  (excellent  King)  for 
anything  I  have  said,  or  shall  hereafter  say  in  this  matter  (be- 
sides that  I  am  within  the  protection  of  your  Majesty),  let  me 
tell  him  that  he  is  acting  contrary  to  the  rules  and.  practices  of 
warfare;  for  I  am  a  trumpeter,  not  a  combatant;  one,  perhaps, 
of  those  of  whom  Homer  speaks: 

'Hail,  heralds,  messengers  of  Jove  and  men!  '2 

and  such  men  might  go  to  and  fro  everywhere  unhurt,  be- 
tween the  fiercest  and  bitterest  enemies.  Nor  is  mine  a  trumpet 
which  summons  and  excites  men  to  cut  each  other  to  pieces 
with  mutual  contradictions,  or  to  quarrel  and  fight  with  one  an- 
other ;  but,  rather,to  make  peace  between  themselves,  and,  turn- 
ing with  united  forces  against  the  nature  of  things,  to  storm  and 
occupy  her  castles  and  strongholds,  and  extend  the  bounds  of 
human  empire  as  far  as  God  Almighty  in  his  goodness  may 
permit."  3 

In  the  1658  edition  of  the  History  of  Life  and  Death,  you  may 
see  a  fine  example  of  the  bugle  with  the  SS  in  a  shield -frame  of 
olive,  surmounted  by  the  usual  crown,  with  pearls,  horns,  and 
fleur-de-lis.  4    The  olive,  commoner,  even,  in  the  hieroglyphic 


1  Until  recently,  when  the  assizes  were  being  held  in  country  towns  in  Eng- 
land, thejudges  and  council  (barristers,  etc.)  were  thus,  when  the  court  was  to 
begin  business,  called  out  from  their  lodgings  by  the  sound  of  a  bugle  or  horn. 

2  Horn.  i.  334. 

3  De  Aug.  iv.  1. 

4  Observe  also  the  distinct  form  of  a  pot  in  the  outline  of  the  shield  or 
wreath. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  323 

wood-cuts  than  in  the  paper -marks,  is  an  evergreen,  figuring 
eternity.  This  tree  was  sacred  to  Minerva,  wisdom.  From  it 
was  distilled  the  ambrosia,  drink  of  the  gods,  "  divinest  olive 
oil, "  with  which  Achilles  was  anointed  in  order  to  make  him 
invulnerable.  "  My  friends,  chew  upon  this. "  Try  to  realise 
the  deep  symbolism  of  that  pretty  water-mark.  See  how,  by  a 
few  well-  chosen  outlines,  within  two  square  inches  of  paper,  it 
calls  up  the  thought  of  one  specially  endowed  for  the  benefit  and 
service  of  the  whole  human  race,  of  winning  for  it  all  provinces 
of  learning;  winning,  "not  as  a  combatant,"  but  with  sweet, 
smooth,  and  winning  words  of  divinest  poesy— that  "oil  of 
gladness"  with  which  he  was  anointed  above  his  fellows. 
Songs  of  joy  and  gladness  are  for  times  of  peace,  and  "  the  olive 
is  symbolical  of  the  joy  which  peace  diffuses.  The  leaves  of  the 
olive  (as  a  wreath)  suggest  the  thought  of  its  oil,  used  for  the 
anointing  of  the  head.  Thou  anointest  my  head  with  oil,  says 
David,  recounting  the  abundant  blessings  which  he  had  re- 
ceived from  God;  and  the  aucients  were  accustomed  to  anoint 
the  head  with  oil  on  all  festive  occasions. "  l 

"  Blessed  are  the  meek,  for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth.  Bless- 
ed are  the  peace-makers,  for  they  shall  be  called  the  children 
of  God."  2  Gentle,  conciliating,  peace- making,  and  peace-lov- 
ing: endowed  with  powers  and  knowledge  beyond  all  other  men, 
ye't  modest,  retiring,  and  totally  free  from  dogmatism  and  intol- 
erance ;  a  herald,  not  a  trumpeter  of  his  own  learning  —  such  was 
Francis  Bacon.  Apparently,  in  his  own  day,  and  with  some  of  his 
biographers,  he  would  have  beeu  more  highly  esteemed,  had  he 
asserted  himself,  defended  himself,  stood  upon  his  rights,  and 
refused  to  be  thought  wrong  or  to  confess  an  error  even  for  care- 
lessness. By  nature  we  know  that  he  was,  according  to  his 
own  showing,  hasty,  impatient,  disposed  to  be  over-impetuous 
in  his  zeal,  and  exhibiting,  though  at  rare  intervals,  "  the  flash 
and  outbreak  of  a  fiery  mind. "    But  before  setting  forth  to  con- 


1  Free  Masonry,  C.  I.  Paton,  1S73,  p.  158. 

2  Quoted  2  Hen.  VI.  li.  1. 


324  FRANCIS  BACON 

quer  others,  he  studied  to  conquer  himself,  with  what  result  we 
see.  The  sweetness  and  calm  beneficence  which  pervaded  his 
whole  being  are  the  perpetual  theme  of  letters  and  other  authen- 
tic records  which  remain  of  him.  His  great  desire,  "  as  much 
as  lay  in  him,  to  live  peaceably  with  all  men,"  made  him  shrink 
from  controversy  and  disputations,  prefer  self-effacement,  mis- 
construction, even  disgrace,  to  the  risk  of  endangering  the  real- 
ization of  his  visions  and  schemes  for  the  happiness  of  the  fut- 
ure ages. 

And  truly  this  "  celestial  peace  "  has  perpetually  hovered 
over  his  work;  truly  may  this  work,  begun  in  faith  and  meek- 
ness, be  said  to  inherit  the  earth.  For  where  is  there  a  region, 
inhabited  by  civilised  man,  which  is  left  unpossessed  by  it? 
Founded  upon  Eternal  Truth,  that  work  must  be,  as  Bacon  him- 
self believed,  imperishable  as  Truth  itself,  and  rightly  is  it  figured 
by  evergreen  branches  of  the  olive,  sacred  to  Pallas. 1 

Sometimes  the  mock  shields  sprout  into  wreaths  of  laureland 
bay  (figuring  triumph  and  victory).  These  seem  to  have  been 
used  for  books  published  after  the  author's  death.  Other 
shields,  whether  foreign  or  English,  of  later  date  than  1626,  have 
chains  or  interlinked  SS,  representing,  perhaps,  "  not  only  the 
chain  of  nature  and  the  thread  of  the  fates,  which  are  one  and 
the  same  thing,  but  the  famous  chain  of  Homer,  that  is,  the  chain 
of  natural  causes,"  "a  chain  which  is  confederate  and  linked 
together,  and  which,  when  the  mind  of  man  beholdeth  it,  must 
needs  fly  to  Providence  and  Deity. "  The  chains  have,  as  usual, 
a  double  and  Masonic  meaning.  Love,  friendship,  and  true 
"  brotherhood  "  are  also  chains  held  together  by  many  bands 
or  links  firmly  soldered,  and  difficult  to  break. 

Bacon  moves  the  Queen  to  friendly  relations  with  France  by 
showing  how  their  mutual  iuterests  should  form  a  bond  of  union 
between  them,  and,  by  means  of  her  Majesty's  friendship,  "  sol- 
der the  link  2  which  religion  hath  broken. " 

1  Having  stumbled  across  a  quaint  coincidence  which  may  interest  some 
readers,  we  give  it  for  what  it  may  be  worth.  "  Pallas  (wisdom)  takes  her  name 
from  vibrating  a  lance  "  In  other  words  shakes  a  spear,  "  representing  heroic 
virtue  with  wisdom." — (See  The  Book  of  God,  iii.  98.) 

2  Compare  :  "  They  are  so  linked  in  friendship."— 3  Hen.  VI.  iv.  3,  116. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  325 

He  is  expressing  much  the  same  thought  about  the  Queen  which 
is  in  the  speech  of  King  Philip  to  Pandulfo,  the  Pope's  legate, 
regarding  his  own  recent  alliance  with  the  English  King: 

"  This  royal  hand  and  mine  are  newly  knit, 
And  the  conjunction  of  our  inward  souls 
Married  in  league,  coupled  and  UnFd  together 
With  all  religious  strength  of  sacred  vows."  1 

The  wise  words  of  Ulysses,  commenting  upon  the  anger  of 
Ajax  because  "Achilles  hath  inveigled  his  fool  from  him," 
come  often  to  the  mind  in  reading  such  Baconian  sayings. 

"  The  amity  that  wisdom  knits  not,  folly  may  easily  untie.'"  2 
Nestor  has  rejoiced  and  laughed  over  the  quarrel  and  conse- 
quent disunion  of  the  two  rival  parties. 

"  All  the  better,  their  fraction  is  more  our  wish  than  their  fac- 
tion—  but  it  was  strong  counsel  a  fool  could  disunite  !  " 

Bacon  furnishes  a  reply.  The  wisest  of  princes,  he  tells  us, 
choose  true  and  wise  friends  "  participes  cur  arum, "  care-sharers, 
for  it  is  that  which  tieth  the  knot.  3  Divisions  and  factions 
weaken  the  state,  and  "  the  cord  breaketh  at  last  by  the  weakest 
pull. "  Those  are  the  strongest  whose  welfare  joineth  and  knit- 
teth  them  in  a  common  cause,  *  and  since  religion  is,  after  all, 
the  chief  band  of  human  society,  "  it  is  well  when  church  and 
state  are  alike  contained  within  the  true  band  of  unity.  5  He  is 
not  so  Utopian  as  to  expect  that  men  will  ever  think  all  alike, 
on  any  one  subject  —  there  are  "  certain  self- pleasing  and  humor- 
ous minds  which  are  so  sensible  of  every  restraint  as  they  go  near 
to  think  their  girdles  and  garters  to  be  bonds  and  shackles  "  — 
yet  he  gives  this  advice  according  to  his  "  small  model."  "  In 
veste  varietatis  sit,  scissura  nonsit. "  Uniformity  is  not  the  same 
as  unity  —  the  bond  of  peace  and  of  all  virtues  — and  humanity 
should  be  drawn  together  by  the  chains  of  sympathy  and  mutual 
dependence,  not  rent  asunder  by  hatred,  jealousy,  and  unchar- 
itableness. 


1  John  iii.  1.        2  Troilusand  Cressida,  ii.  3. 

3  See  Essay  of  Friendship.    4  Ess.  Sedition.      Of  Unity.  5 


326  FRANCIS  BACON 

Thus  we  interpret  the  chains  surrounding  the  shields,  foreign 
or  English,  to  be  seen  amongst  our  drawings.  These  shields  form 
links  with  many  paper-marks,  assuming  the  shapes  by  turns  of 
mirrors  or  hearts,  or  suppressing  the  escutcheon  in  favour  of 
the  crown  which  should  surmount  it.  Or  the  outline  of  the 
shield  is  marked  only  by  a  wreath,  or  (in  works,  we  think,  not 
original,  but  the  product  of  many  translators,  editors,  etc.)  by 
the  chain,  which  sometimes  includes  shells  and  a  pendant  —  and 
which  points  to  the  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece  as  its  origin. 

The  heart  shields  often  contain  or  are  surmounted  by  a  cross 
something  like  Luther's  seal,  or  hearts  are  introduced  into 
the  frame  of  a  mirror-shield,  as  in  the  example  taken  from  the 
posthumous  edition  of  Bacon's  History  of  Henry  VII.  What  a 
parable  the  old  paper-makers  have  given  us  here !  No  need 
for  "  drawing  it  into  great  variety  by  a  witty  talent  or  an  invent- 
ive genius,  delivering  it  of  plausible  meanings  which  it  never 
contained."1  The  parabolic  meaning  stands  out  plain  before 
our  eyes  as  we  hold  that  old  sheet  against  the  light  for  the  sun 
to  stream  through. 

This  shield,  modified  to  the  form  of  a  mirror,  is  "  the  glass  of 
the  understanding, "  the  mirror  of  man's  mind,  which  Bacon 
calls  the  microcosm  —  the  little  world  reflecting  the  great  world 
without.  "To  hold  the  mirror  up  to  nature, "  was  one  of  his 
chief  endeavours.  He  would  "  show  vice  its  own  deformity, " 
kindly,  gravely,  or  laughingly,  "for  it  is  good  to  mingle  jest 
with  earnest,"2  and  "  what  forbids  one  to  speak  truth  with  a 
laughing  face?"3 

See  the  bugle  of  which  we  have  spoken,  the  heart  reminding 
us  of  the  whole-hearted  devotion  which  must  be  brought  to  the 
work  of  raising  fallen  humanity  and  regaining  our  paradise  lost. 
Then  the  scrolls,  are  they  not  to  bring  to  mind  the  magic  wand 
of  Mercury,  once  a  scroll  or  book  f  It  was  by  books  that  this 
regeneration  was  to  be  chiefly  effected.    By  the  pearls  of  knowl- 

lPref.  to  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients. 

2  Ess.  of  Discourse. 

3  Horace  quoted  Promus  1041, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  327 

edge  uniting  the  scrolls,  the  ellipse  which  surrounds  the  mirror, 
and  the  fleur-de-lis  which  surmounts  the  whole,  we  are  again 
hidden  to  confess  that  every  good  and  perfect  gift  of  genius,  wit, 
or  knowledge  comes  from  the  great  God  who  has  created  and 
redeemed  us,  and  who  ever  comforts,  helps,  and  inspires  us, 
that  we  may  glorify  Him  with  our  bodies  and  with  our  spirits, 
which  are  His. 

Returning  for  a  minute  to  the  bugles,  we  must  say  that  it  ap- 
pears incomprehensible  how  a  paragraph  such  as  the  following 
should  be  allowed  to  find  its  way  into  a  book  professedly  in- 
structive, "  founded  upon  lectures  delivered  at  the  London 
Institution, "  and  thereby  claiming  a  certain  authority : 

"  Post  paper  seems  to  have  derived  its  name  from  the  post- 
horn,  which,  at  one  time,  was  its  distinguishing  mark.  It  does 
not  appear  to  have  been  used  prior  to  the  establishment  of  the 
General  Post-office  (1670),  when  it  became  the  custom  to  blow  a 
horn,  to  which  circumstance,  no  doubt,  we  may  attribute  its 
introduction." 

The  post-horn  or  bugle  was,  at  the  time  of  the  establishment 
of  the  post-office,  more  than  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  old. 
Even  supposing  the  writer  to  be  speaking  of  the  bugle  or  horn, 
as  used  onlf  in  printed  books,  still  it  seems  almost  incredible 
that  an  expert  should  be  unaware  of  the  presence  of  this  same 
"post-horn"  in  the  works  of  Bacon  thirty  years  before  the 
establishment  of  the  post-office.  As  for  the  bugles  or  "  post- 
horns  "  in  the  writing-paper  of  Baconian  correspondence,  we 
pass  them  lightly  over,  on  account  of  their  multitude,  but  some 
specimens  are  given  in  the  plates. 

One  more  paper-mark,  common  in  old  religious  books,  is  the 
fool's-cap.  There  are,  as  usual,  various  forms,  some  resem- 
bling a  mitre,  others  diverging  into  distinct  rays,  five  or  seven, 
which  rays  sometimes  develop  into  coronets  or  radiant  rising 
suns. 

The  book  before  quoted  proceeds  to  throw  another  sprink- 
ling of  "  puzzling  dust  "  in  our  eyes  by  the  following  observa- 
tions : 

"  The  foolscap  was  a  later  device  (than  the  jug  or  pot)  and 


328  FEANCIS  BACON 

does  not  appear  to  have  been  nearly  of  such  long  continuance 
as  the  former.  It  has  given  place  to  the  figure  of  Britannia,  or 
that  of  a  lion  rampant,  supporting  the  cap  of  liberty  on  a  pole. 
The  name,  however,  has  continued,  and  we  still  denominate 
paper  of  a  particular  size  by  the  title  of foolscap.  The  original 
figure  has  the  cap  and  bells,  of  which  we  so  often  read  in  old 
plays  and  histories,  as  the  particular  head-dress  of  the  fool  who 
at  one  time  formed  part  of  every  great  man's  establishment. 

"  The  water-mark  of  a  cap  may  sometimes  be  met  with,  of  a 
much  simpler  form  than  just  mentioned,  resembling  the  jockey- 
caps  of  the  present  day,  with  a  trifling  ornamentation  or  addi- 
tion to  the  upper  part. 1  The  first  edition  of  '  Shakespeare,' 
printed  by  Isaac  laggard  and  Ed  Blount,  lb'23,  will  be  found  to 
contain  this  mark  interspersed  with  several  others  of  a  different 
character.  No  doubt  the  general  use  of  the  term  cap  to  various 
papers  of  the  present  day  owes  its  origin  to  marks  of  this  de- 
scription. "2 

Turning  our  backs  for  a  short  time  upon  authority,  we  ask 
counsel  of  experience  and  research.  First,  as  to  the  antiquity 
of  the  fool's  cap  ?  The  earliest  printed  book  which  contains  it 
seems  to  be  the  Golden  Legend,  written  in  1370,  but  printed  by 
Caxton. 3  After  this  it  is  not  infrequent,  especially  in  the  mod- 
ified forms  which  sometimes  suggest  a  coronet  or  crown,  some- 
times the  rays  of  a  rising  sun. 

Perhaps  the  thoughts  which  the  fool's  cap  suggested  were 
akin  to  those  in  "  Quarles'  Emblems :  " 

"  See'st  thou  this  fulsome  idiot:  iu  what  measure 
He  seems  delighted  with  the  antic  pleasure 
Of  childish  baubles?    Canst  thou  but  admire 
The  emptiness  of  his  full  desire? 
Canst  thou  conceive  such  poor  delights  as  these 
Can  fill  th'  insatiate  soul,  or  please 
The  fond  aspect  of  his  deluded  eye  ? 
Header,  such  fools  are  you  and  I."  i 


1  The  writer  omits  to  say  that  this  "addition  "is  a.  fleur-de-lis,  or  other 
sacred  emblem. 

2  Herring,  p.  104- 106. 

3The  illustration  given  is  copied  from  Sotheby's  Principia. 
4  Quarles'  Emblems,  book  jii.  2, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  329 

The  text  which  furnishes  the  motif  oi  these  lines  is  from  Psalm 
lxix,  5:  uO  God,  thou  knowest  my  foolishness,  aud  my  sins 
are  not  hid  from  thee." 

In  the  modern  edition,  a  child  with  a  fool's  cap  and  bauble 
rides  astride  upon  the  world,  which  wears  an  ass's  head. 

Little  as  we  have  reason  to  trust  any  printed  statements  on 
these  subjects,  yet  there  seems  to  be  no  cause  for  disbelieving 
the  uncalled-for  assertion  that  the  fooTs  cap  gave  place  to  the 
fqure  of  Britannia,  or  that  of  a  lion  rampant.  There  are  ap- 
parently no  modern  fool's  caps,  but  «  Britanuias"  are  common 
in  English,  aud  lions  in  foreign  foolscap  paper.  So  there  can 
be  no  harm,  for  the  present  at  least,  in  registering  this  item  of 
knowledge.  Yet  we  will,  a  little  curiously,  inspect  our  much- 
esteemed  ruled  foolscap.  Holding  towards  the  light  the  sheet 
on  which  we  are  about  to  write,  we  see  that  on  one  half  it  bears 
the  inscription,  "  Toogood's  Superfine. »  This  is  truly  its  trade- 
mark. According  to  our  authority,  on  the  other  half  we  have 
Britannia  portrayed  as  on  our  national  penny,  seated,  and  occu- 
pied as  usual  in  ruling  the  waves. 

This  is  the  first  impression.  But  Britannia  should  wear  a 
helmet,  should  bear  in  her  hand  a  trident,  and  beside  her  a 
round  target  or  wheel,  with  the  mixed  crosses  of  St.  George,  St. 
Patrick,  and  St.  Andrew,  in  the  Union  Jack. 

The  lady  of  our  paper-mark  seems  to  be  crowned  with  five 
pearls  In  her  right  hand  she  holds  a  trefoil  or  fleur-de-lis, 
in  her  left  a  spear  tipped  with  a  diamond.  By  her  side  rests  a 
shield  of  elliptical  form,  and  on  it  a  plain  cross.  Beneath  her 
feet  are  the  ancient  marks  of  waters,  and  her  image  is  framed 
by  three  elliptical  lines  surmounted  with  a  crown  of  pearls,  and 
the  Maltese  cross  and  orb.  Pearls,  fleur-de-lis,  diamond,  crosses, 
ellipses -surely  again  we  see  in  the  very  texture  of  our  paper 
a  reminder  of  the  "Sovereign  Lady,"  Truth;  the  heavenly 
iewel  of  knowledge  tipping  the  spear  which  »  pierces  to  the  heart 
of  things  ;  »  the  pearls,  the  dew  of  heaven,  the  celestial  manna, 
which  Truth  affords.  Then  the  threefold  ellipse,  the  cross, 
trefoil,  and  waters,  are  they  not  reminders  of  the  fact  that 


330  FBA  NCIS  BA  CON 

knowledge  without  Faith  is  but  vain,  that  of  ourselves  we  can 
do  nothing,  but  that  all  things  are  possible  through  the  Holy 
Spirit  that  strengheneth  us. "  *  The  trefoil  which  Truth  holds  in 
her  extended  right  hand  is  a  silent  emblem  of  the  great  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity  in  unity,  to  which  heaven  and  earth  alike 
bear  witness. 

Would  any  one  endeavour  to  explain  away  such  an  interpreta- 
tion, and  to  say  that  this  paper-mark  either  represents  Britan- 
nia, or  that  it  represents  nobody  in  particular;  that  the  sym- 
bols are  imaginary,  or  that  they  have  come  together  by  chance ; 
in  short,  that  this  is  nothing  but  a  manufacturer's  work,  adopted 
by  a  certain  firm,  from  whim  or  fancy,  but  with  no  especial  aim  ? 

Such  conjectures  cannot  be  accepted.  For  trade-marks  are, 
as  it  were,  private  property;  it  is  even  actionable  to  appropri- 
ate a  name  or  device  previously  adopted  for  commercial  pur- 
poses. How,  then,  can  we  pronounce  this  paper-mark  to  be  a 
trade-mark,  when,  taking  up  a  sheet  from  another  parcel 
marked  "  Joynson's  Superfine,"  we  find  in  it  the  same  image  of 
"  Britannia, "  or  Truth,  as  that  in  Toogood's  ?  2  The  same,  that 
is,  in  all  essential  particulars,  ellipses,  pearls,  diamond,  cross, 
crown,  trefoil,  water  —  yet  with  differences  in  small  details  such 
as  we  hope  to  show  in  similar  wood-cuts  in  the  "  Baconian  " 
books,  and  such  as  are  perceptible  in  paper-marks  of  the  same 
design,  three  hundred  years  old. 

Joynson's  mark  is  one-tenth  of  an  inch  smaller  in  all  direc- 
tions than  Toogood's.  The  waves  are  fewer,  the  cross  on  the 
shield  of  thinner  proportions ;  the  garment  of  Truth,  which  in 
Toogood's  pattern  is  loose,  fits  tightly  in  Joynson's  similar  de- 
sign. We  say,  then,  that  this  is  no  mere  trade-mark.  It  is  an 
emblematic  or  hieroglyphic  design,  deliberately  adopted  and 
reproduced  by  two  distinct  firms  of  paper-makers.  It  bears 
witness  to  a  mutual  understanding,  and  to  a  traditional  method 

i  Philippians,  iv.  13,  Vulgate,  noted  in  Bacon's  Promus,  as  "  against  eonceyt 
of  impossibilities."    Fol.  114,  1242. 

2  S|nce  writing  this  we  have  seen  another  mark  where  a  man's  figure.  Time, 
we  think,  takes  the  place  of  Truth.  Bacon  says  that  Truth  is  the  daughter  of 
Time,  not  of  Authority. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  331 

amongst  them  of  transmitting  secret  information,  and,  as  we 
think,  cardinal  points  of  religious  doctrine. 

For,  examine,  trace,  catalogue  as  we  may,  we  never  get  away 
from  these  chief  and  dominant  ideas  and  meditations  of  Bacon 
upon  the  unity  and  diversity  and  universality  of  God,  in  religion 
as  in  nature  —  of  the  beauty,  love,  and  order  in  creation  —  that 
love  and  truth  are  inseparable  —  that  the  Bible  and  nature  are 
God's  two  great  lights,  the  greater  light  to  rule  the  day  of 
spiritual  life,  the  lesser  light  to  rule  the  night  of  intellectual 
darkness  —  and  that  man  himself  is  the  little  world  in  which 
the  whole  great  world,  the  universe,  is  reflected  and  mirrored. 

Never  for  an  instant  are  we  allowed  to  forget  that  every  good 
gift,  every  power  or  faculty  of  soul  or  intellect,  the  reason  and 
speech  which  raise  man  above  the  level  of  the  brute,  are  "  God's 
gifts, "  to  be  used  to  His  glory,  and  for  the  benefit  of  His  creat- 
ures, and  that  all  mankind  is  bound  together  by  chains  and 
links  of  sympathy  and  brotherhood,  as  every  part  of  knowledge 
is  linked  in  a  never-ending  circle. 

One  more  mark  should  be  especially  noted,  for,  although  it  is 
amongst  the  oldest,  it  was  used  all  through  the  life  of  Bacon, 
not  only  in  England,  but  in  books  and  letters  from  abroad. 
"  The  open  hand  "  is  variously  interpreted  of  faith  and  trust, 
or  of  generosity  and  open-handed  liberality ;  usually  these  quali- 
ties in  their  best  examples  all  go  together.  To  the  open  hand 
is  sometimes  added  the  trefoil,  or  the  key,  symbol  of  secresy, 
or  the  figure  3,  perhaps  again  an  allusion  to  the  Trinity.  Every 
variety  of  size,  proportion  or  disproportion,  is  to  be  seen  in 
these  hands,  which  diverge  into  other  forms,  puzzling  to  the 
copyist.  Sometimes  the  five  fingers  spread  out  into  rays,  or  a 
crown,  at  other  times  contract,  so  as  to  suggest  a  vase.  The 
most  notable  alteration  (the  addition  of  a  star)  seems  to  have 
taken  place  in  the  time  of  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  and  it  was  re- 
tained long  afterwards. 

Mr.  Sotheby  says  that  an  open  hand  with  a  star  at  the  top 
was  in  use  as  early  as  1530,  and  probably  gave  the  name  to  the 
"  hand  "  paper, 


332  FRANCIS  BACON 

This  remark  again  encourages  the  erroneous  idea  that  these 
are  trade-marks,  rather  than  the  secret  signs  of  a  religious,  liter- 
ary society,  which  they  surely  were.  The  addition  of  "  the  star 
on  the  top  "  (sometimes  not  a  star,  hut  a  rose  or  a  fleur-de-lis) 
was  made  just  about  the  time  when  the  other  "  Baconian  n 
marks  began  to  appear,  in  the  time,  that  is,  of  Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon,  i 

The  few  specimens  given  in  Plate  III.  are  chiefly  selected  from 
a  very  large  number  which  are  found  in  the  paper  of  one  of 
Anthony  Bacon's  chief  correspondents — Anthony  Standen. 
These  letters  were  written  from  various  parts  of  the  continent, 
and  under  various  names.  Sometimes  they  are  signed  La  Faye, 
at  other  times  Andrieu  Sandal.  Under  the  latter  name  Standen 
was  cast  into  prison  in  Spain,  upon  suspicion  of  being  a  political 
spy.  The  charge  was  disproved,  and  his  release  effected,  ap- 
parently by  the  Bacons'  influence,  but  Standen's  history  has  yet 
to  be  written.  Other  specimens  given  from  the  Harleian,  Cot- 
tonian,  Lansdowne,  and  Hatton  Finch  MSS.,  at  the  British  Mus- 
eum, are  in  documents  concerning  the  Bacons  and  their  friends. 
They  are  chiefly  in  letters  or  documents  sent  from  abroad,  or  in 
copies. 

The  secresy  attaching  to  all  these  matters  is  the  strongest 
proof  that  at  some  time  or  other  there  was  danger  involved  in 
the  writing,  printing,  and  disseminating  of  books.  Now,  when 
there  is  no  such  danger,  in  free  England  and  America  at  least, 
the  secrets  would  certainly  be  made  public,  were  it  not  that  the 
vows  of  a  secret  society,  vows  perhaps  heedlessly  and  igno- 
rantly  taken  by  the  large  proportion  of  members,  prevent  the 
better  educated  and  more  fully  initiated  amongst  them  from 
revealing  things  which  must,  one  would  think,  be,  at  the  present 
hour,  matters  chiefly  of  history  or  of  antiquarian  curiosity  — 


1  Joel  Munsell  specifies  1539  as  the  "era"  of  the  "ancient  water-mark  of 
the  hand  with  a  star  at  the  fingers'  ends."  He  does  not  mention  that  the  star 
was  then  a  new  addition.  By  1559  this  sign  must  have  become  sufficiently  fa- 
miliar to  excite  no  inquiry,  for  in  that  year  Richard  Tottel  printed  "in  Flete 
Strete,  at  the  signe  of  the  Hand  and  Starre,"  a  translation  of  Seneca's  Troas,  made 
by  Jasper  Haywood; 


AND  HIS  SECBET  SOCIETY.  333 

immense  aids  to  the  study  of  "  Elizabethan"   and  "  Jacobean" 
literature,  but  hurtful  to  no  one. 

"  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  in  tracing  so  curious  an  art 
as  that  of  the  manufacture  of  modern  paper,  any  definite  con- 
clusion as  to  the  precise  time  or  period  of  its  adoption  should 
hitherto  have  proved  altogether  unattainable.  The  Royal  Society 
of  Sciences  at  Gottingen,  in  1735  and  1763,  offered  considerable 
premiums  for  that  especial  object,  but,  unfortunately,  all  re- 
searches, however  directed,  were  utterly  fruitless."  1 

So  says  our  guide.  But  is  it  credible  that  in  the  history  of  me- 
chanical arts  paper-making  and  printing  are  the  only  such 
mechanical  arts  which  have  no  record  of  their  own  origin  ? 

We  cannot  believe  it.  Some  day,  when  the  secret  brother- 
hoods, especially  the  higher  grades,  shall  have  persuaded  them- 
selves that  "the  time  is  ripe,"  or  when  narrow  protectionist 
systems  shall,  liberally  and  pro  bono  publico,  give  way  to  free 
trade  in  knowledge  (as  they  have  given  way  to  Francis  Bacon's 
other  great  desiderata — freedom  of  thought  and  freedom  of 
the  press )  —  then  it  will,  we  are  convinced,  be  easy  for  those 
who  hold  the  keys  to  unlock  this  closed  door  in  the  palace  of 
Truth,  and  to  let  us  know  the  rights  about  these  precious  and 
inoffensive  arts  and  crafts. 


The  following  is  a  list  of  the  water-marks  which  we  have 
found  in  books  previous  to  the  Baconian  period,  or  in  MSS.  or 
other  documents.  The  paper  seems  to  be  all  foreign,  from  mills 
chiefly  in  Holland  or  Germany.  Some  of  these  figures  were  re- 
tained in  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  and  developed  into 
other  forms.  Each  figure  seems  to  have  been  varied  almost 
indefinitely.  In  our  limited  research  we  have  seldom  found  two 
precisely  alike,  and  there  seem  to  be  about  sixty  figures,  not 
reckoning  "  nondescripts"  and  doubtful  forms  or  variations: 

1.  Animals.  Quadrupeds— Ape  or  Monkey,  Bull,  Cat  (or 
Panther?),  Dog  (Hound  or  Talbot),  Goat,  Horse,  Lamb  (some- 


1  Herring,  Paper  and  Paper-making,  34. 


334  FRANCIS  BACON 

times  with  flag),  Lion  (rampant  or  passant),  Panther,  Pig,  Hog, 
Swine,  Stag  (head  or  passant),  Wolf.  Birds. — Cock,  Duck  (or 
Goose?),  Eagle  (sometimes  spread,  or  with  2  heads  or  4  legs), 
Goose,  Pelican,  Swan.  Fish. — Carp,  Dolphin,  Porpoise  or  Dol- 
phin. Reptiles. — Lizard,  Newt,'  Serpent.  Mythical. — Dragon  or 
Griffin,  Mermaid,  Phoenix,  Unicorn. 

2.  Flowers. — Bell-flower,  Fleur-de-lis  or  Trefoil,  Lily,  Eose 
(five-petaled,  or  nondescript,  four-petaled).  Fruits. — Cherries, 
Fig,  Grapes,  Pear,  Pomegranate. 

3.  Miscellaneous. — Anchor  (sometimes  in  a  circle),  Angel  or 
Acolyte,  Anvil,  Ark,  Bars  with  names,  letters,  etc.,  Battle-axe, 
Bell,  Bow  and  Arrows,  Cross  Bow,  Bugle  or  Trumpet  or  Horn, 
Cap  (see  Fool's  Cap),  Cardinal's  Hat,  Cask  or  Water-butt,  Castle 
or  Tower,  *  Chalice,  Circle  (sometimes  with  cabalistic  figures), 
Compasses,  Cords  or  Knot,  Cornucopia?  (or  Horns),  Crescent,, 
Cross  (Greek  or  Maltese),  Crown,  Fool's  Cap,  Globe,  Golden 
Fleece,  Hambuer,  Hand,  Heart,  Horn,  Bugle,  Trumpet,  Cornu- 
copia, Key,  Crossed  Keys,  etc.,  Ladder,  Lamp,  Lance  or  Spear, 
Letters  (chiefly  when  alone,  P  and  Y),  Lotus  (?),  Mitre,  Moon, 
Moose's  Head,  Mounts  (3  or  7),  Orb,  Pope  Seated,  Reliquary  (for 
Pot1?),  Scales  on  Balance,  Shears  or  Scissors,  Shell  (or  Fan?), 
Shield,  Ship,  Spear,  Spiral  line  or  Mercury's  Rod,  Star,  Sun  or 
flaming  disk,  Sword,  Triangle  with  cross,  etc.,  Trumpet  (see 
Horn),  Vine  (see  Grapes),  Water-butt  (see  Cask),  Waves  or 
Water,  Wheel  (sometimes  toothed). 

l  N.  B. — This  seems  to  be  a  modification  of  the  Mounts  and  to  end  in  becom- 
ing candlesticks. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

PAPER-MARKS  IN  AND  AFTER  THE   TIME   OF  FRANCIS   BACON. 

THE  paper-marks  which  have  hitherto  been  noticed  were 
all  used  in  manuscripts  or  printed  books  before  Bacon  be- 
gan to  publish,  and  chiefly  on  the  continent.  Many  of  them 
were  retained  or  adopted  by  the  members  of  his  society.  But 
their  use  became  immensely  expanded  and  diversified,  and  it 
will  be  seen  that  the  Baconian  literature  contains  these  paper- 
marks  so  mixed  (even  within  the  covers  of  one  volume)  as  to 
dispose  of  the  idea  that  a  certain  quantity  of  paper  of  one  kind, 
or  with  the  mark  of  one  maker,  was  apportioned  for  the  print- 
ing of  a  particular  book.  On  the  contrary,  it  seems  to  have 
been  almost  the  rule  to  use  in  one  volume  paper  witli  three  dif- 
ferent marks,  and  each  of  these  marks  varied  three  or  five 
times.  This  system  of  mixture,  or  of  ringing  the  changes  upon 
a  certain  set  of  patterns,  makes  it  easy  to  establish  a  complete 
chain  of  connection  between  the  books  belonging  to  the  society. 
Several  of  the  marks  are  used  as  well  by  foreign  as  by  English 
printers. 

There  are  three  paper-marks  which  we  have  learnt  especially 
to  associate  with  Francis  Bacon  and  his  brother  Anthony. 
They  are  to  be  seen  throughout  the  printed  books  which  we 
ascribe  to  Francis,  and  one  in  particular  is  in  the  paper  in 
which  he  and  Anthony,  and  their  most  confidential  friends,  cor- 
responded, whether  in  England  or  abroad.    These  marks  are : 

1.  The  bunch  of  grapes. 

2.  The  pot,  or  jug. 

3.  The  double  candlesticks. 

The  grapes  and  the  pots  appear,  in  somewhat  rude  forms,  as 
early  as  the  fourteenth  century.  The  candlesticks  seem  in  their 
earlier  stages  to  have  been  towers  or  pillars.    As  candlesticks, 

335 


336  FRANCIS  BACON 

even  single,  we  have  failed  to  find  one  earlier  than  1580,  and 
then  in  a  MS.  document.  (Plate  VIII.  1.)  Even  this  example 
is  rather  suggestive  of  a  castle  than  of  a  candlestick,  and  as 
castles  and  towers  of  unmistakable  forms  (and  sometimes  show- 
ing an  affinity  to  the  mounts  spoken  of  in  the  last  chapter)  ap- 
pear in  books  published  in  Italy  as  early  as  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury, it  is  possible  that  here  we  have  some  of  the  many  scattered 
links  in  the  chain  of  continuity  in  designs  as  well  as  ideas.1 

These  three  marks  we  associate  with  Francis  Bacon:  (1) 
Because  few  of  his  letters  are  without  the  pot,  and  none  of  his 
acknowledged  books  without  one  or  more  in  the  paper-marked 
editions.  (2)  Because  in  works  whose  matter,  language,  and 
other  signs,  internal  and  external,  point  to  him  as  their  author, 
one  or  more  of  these  marks  runs  through  the  book.  (3)  Be- 
cause when  the  book  is  of  the  kind  which  Bacon  "  collected," 
by  the  aid  of  others,  or  revised  and  improved  upon  for  other 
writers,  one  at  least  of  these  three  patterns  (used,  perhaps,  once 
or  twice  only  in  the  whole  book,  or  in  the  fly-leaves)  acknowl- 
edges the  touch  of  his  hand.  In  such  cases,  the  paper-marks  in 
the  body  of  the  book  are  quite  different,  or  there  are  none.  To 
begin  with  the  caudlesticks,  of  which  patterns  may  be  seen  on 
Plate  VIII.  These,  we  believe,  were  the  latest  and  least  frequent 
of  the  three,  being  used  in  the  double  form  only  in  editions  of 
Bacon's  works  published  after  his  death.  They  are  placed 
first  because  their  meaning  is,  perhaps,  the  deepest  of  any,  and 
the  most  far-reaching,  being  intimately  connected  with  many  of 
Bacon's  greatest  thoughts  and  "  fixed  ideas; "  consequently,  with 
a  large  section  of  his  philosophy,  to  which  the  opening  verses 
of  the  Bible  are  the  text  and  the  key-note  : 

"  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth. 
And  the  earth  was  without  form  and  void,  and  darkness  was 
upon  the  face  of  the  deep.  And  the  Spirit  of  God  moved  upon  the 
face  of  the  ivaters.  And  God  said,  Let  there  be  light,  and  there 
was  light." 

l  Sotheby  says  that  grapes  occur  in  books  printed  at  Mentz,  Strasburg, 
Nuremberg,  Basie,  and  Cologne,  and  that  they  were  produced  by  Caxton,  but 
are  not  in  any  book  printed  in  the  Netherlands. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  33? 

These  words  are  also  the  key-note  to  Rosicruciauisin.  In  the 
Fama  Fratemitatis  we  read : 

"  Our  axiomata  shall  immovably  remain  unto  the  world's  end, 
and  also  the  world  in  her  highest  and  last  age  shall  not  attain  to 
see  anything  else;  for  our  ROTA  takes  her  beginning  from  that 
day  when  God  spake  FIAT,  and  shall  end  when  he  shall  speak 
TEREAT." 

Another  Rosicrucian  work  thus  expresses  the  same  ideas:  "  In 
respect  that  God  Almighty  is  the  only  immediate  agent  which 
actuates  the  matter  (of  the  world),  it  will  not  be  amiss  to  speak 
something  of  Him,  that  we  may  know  the  cause  by  His  creatures, 
and  the  creatures  by  their  cause."  Then  follow  some  verses  in 
which  the  poet  compares  his  soul  to  a  mole,  "  imprisoned  in  black 
entrenchments,  .  .  .  heaving  the  earth  to  take  in  air, "  and 
"  mewed  from  the  light  of  day."    He  prays : 

"  Lord,  guide  her  out  of  this  sad  night, 
And  say  once  more,  Let  there  be  light." 

The  same  writer  says,  in  another  place : 

"  We  read  that  darknesse  was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep,  and  the 
Spirit  of  God  moved  upon  the  face  of  the  waters.  Here  you  are 
to  observe  that,  notwithstanding  this  processe  of  the  Third  Per- 
son, yet  there  was  no  light,  but  darknesse  on  the  face  of  the 
deepe,  illumination  being  the  office  of  the  Second  (Person). 
Wherefore  God  also,  when  the  matter  was  prepared  by  love  for 
light,  gives  out  his  FIAT  LUX,  which  was  no  creation,  as  most 
think,  but  an  Emanation  of  the  Word,  in  whom  was  life,  and  that  life 
is  the  light  of  men.  This  is  the  light  whereof  St.  John  speaks, 
that  it  shines  in  the  darknesse,  and  the  darknesse  comprehendeth  it 
not. » i 

That  he  "  may  not  be  singular  on  this  point, "  the  author 
quotes  Pimandrus,  who,  in  the  Book  of  the  Creation,  informs 
Trismegistus :  "I  am  that  Light,  the  Pure  Intelligence,  thy 
God."  In  another  work  the  same  Eugenius  argues  that,  "to 
come  to  the  point,  these  invisible,  central  artists  are  lights, 

1  Anthroposophia  Theomagica.  "Eugenius  Philalethes."  Published  later  as 
the  work  of  Thomas  Yaughan.  See  "Vaughan's  Magical  Writings,"  reprinted 
and  edited  by  E.  JK  Waite,  1888.    Redway  (Kegan,  Paul,  Trubner  &  Co.) 


338  FllANCIS  BACON 

seeded  by  the  First  Light  in  that  primitive  emanation,  or  SIT" 
LUX— Let  there  be  light — which  some  falsely  render  FIAT 
LUX —  Let  light  be  made.  For  nature  is  the  voice  of  God,  not 
a  mere  sound  or  command,  but  a  substantial,  active  breath, 
proceeding  from  the  Creator,  and  penetrating  all  things. "  * 
In  the  Lumen  di  Lumine  the  same  author  describes  "  The  New 
Magical2  Light  Discovered  and  Communicated  to  the  World." 
Here  we  read  of  "  a  phantastic  circle,  within  which  stands  a 
lamp  typifying  the  light  of  nature,  the  secret  candle  of  God, 
which  he  hath  tinned  in  the  elements.  It  burns  but  is  not 
seen,  shining  in  a  dark  place.  Every  naturall  body  is  a  kind  of 
black  lanthorne ;  it  carries  this  candle  within  it :  but  the  light 
appears  not;  it  is  eclipsed  by  the  grossness  of  the  matter.  The 
effect  of  this  light  is  apparent  in  all  things,  but  the  light  itself 
is  denied,  or  else  not  followed.  The  great  wrorld  hath  the  sun 
for  his  life  and  candle.  According  to  the  absence  or  presence 
of  this  fire,  all  things  in  the  world  flourish  or  wither." 

In  the  "  Fasciculus  Chemicus,  or  Chymical  Collections  made 
English  by  James  Hasolle, "  3  there  is  a  prayer  for  the  Intellectual 

lAnima  Magica  Abscondita.  Eugenius  Philalethes.  Ed.  A.  E.  Waitc.  Red- 
way. 

2  Wo  must  not  allow  ourselves  to  be  puzzled  or  misled  by  the  use  of  language 
purposely  adopted  by  the  professors  of  the  New  Philosophy  in  order  outwardly 
to  accord  in  some  degree  with  the  jargon  of  the  alchemists.  Bacon  explains 
very  clearly  his  view  of  magic  iu  the  true  sense.  "  The  chief  business  of  the 
Persian  magic  (so  much  celebrated)  was  to  watch  the  correspondences  between 
the  architectures  and  fabrics  of  things  natural  and  things  civil.  .  .  .  Neither 
are  these  all  similitudes,  but  plainly  the  footsteps  of  nature  treading  or  printing 
upon  different  subjects  and  matters.  .  .  .  A  thing  of  excellent  use  for  dis- 
playing the  unity  of  nature,  which  is  supposed  to  bo  the  office  of  Primitive 
Philosophy." —  (De  Aug.  iii.  1.) 

"  I  must  stipulate  that  magic,  which  has  long  been  used  in  a  bad  sense,  bo 
again  restored  to  its  ancient  and  honourable  meaning.  For  among  the 
Persians  magic  was  taken  for  a  sublime  wisdom,  and  the  knowledge  of  the 
universal  consents  of  things,  and  so  the  three  kings  who  came  from  the  East  to 
worship  Christ  were  called  by  the  names  of  the  Magi.  I,  however,  under- 
stand it  as  the  science  of  hidden  forms  (inherent  natures)  to  the  production  of 
wonderful  operations;  and  by  uniting  (as  they  say)  actives  with  passives,  dis- 
plays the  wonderful  works  of  nature."  —  (lb.  iii.  5).  Natural  magic,  in  short, 
displays  not  only  the  unity  of  nature,  but  also  the  universal  harmony  of  things  ; 
the  mingling  of  heaven  ahd'earth —  Bacon's  prime  object. 

3  An  anagram  for  the  name  of  Elias  Ashmole,  the  celebrated  Freemason  and 
Rosicrucian  antiquarian  and  historian,  born,  Lichfield,  1617. 


AND  MIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  330 

Light  strongly  resembling  well-known  prayers  of  Bacon,  and  on 
the  hieroglyph ical  frontispiece  to  this  curious  book  is  another 
allusion  to  the  mole  as  a  type  of  the  soul  struggling  towards  Light 
and  Freedom.1  Amongst  many  other  emblems  there  is  an  ash- 
tree,  from  which  rises  a  scroll,  surmounted  by  a  square  (or 
"  Templar  "  )  cross,  a  sun  and  a  moon.  On  the  scroll  is  written  : 
"  Quod  est  superior  est  sicut  inferius. "  Beneath  the  tree  is  seen 
a  mole  digging,  and  the  motto  :  "  Fraximus  in  Silvis  pulcher- 
ima,  Talpa  in  Terris  operissima. " 

In  the  lower  margin  of  the  picture  the  device  is  thus 
expounded : 

"  These  Hieroglyphics  vaile  the  vigorous  Beames 
Of  an  unbounded  Soul :  The  Scrowle  &  Schemes 
The  full  Interpreter:  But  now's  conceald, 
Who  through  (Enigmas  lookes,  is  so  reveald." 

In  the  New  Atlantis  (which  so-called  fragment  of  Bacon's  is 
the  same  as  the  Journey  to  the  Land  of  the  Eosicrucians),2  we 
read  of  a  great  pillar  of  light  rising  from  the  sea  a  great  way 
towards  heaven ;  and  on  the  top  of  it,  a  large  cross  of  light,  which 
was  regarded  as  a  heavenly  sign.  "  One  of  the  wise  men  (of  the 
society  of  the  Rosicrucians),  after  offering  up  prayer  to  God  for 
his  grace  in  showing  him  this  miracle,  causes  his  boat  to  be 
softly  rowed  towards  the  pillar,  but  ere  he  came  near,  the  pillar 
and  cross  of  light  brake  up,  and  cast  itself  abroad  into  a  firma- 
ment of  many  stars,  which  also  soon  vanished. "  The  wise  man 
presently  informs  the  travellers  to  his  land :  "  You  see  we  main- 
tain a  trade,  not  for  gold,  silver  or  jewels,  nor  for  any  commod- 
ity of  matter,  but  only  for  God's  first  creature,  which  was  light,- 
to  have  light,  I  say,  of  the  growth  of  all  parts  of  the  world." 

1  Frequent  allusions  of  this  sort  remind  us  of  Hamlet  comparing  the  Ghost 
(or  Soul)  of  his  father  to  "  an  old  mole  "  working  in  the  ground  [Hamlet,  i.  5), 
and  of  the  "  blind  mole  casting  copped  hills  to  heaven  "  in  his  efforts  toward 
air  and  light.     (See  Pericles,  i.  1,  98-102.) 

2  This  last,  though  published  twenty  years  later  than  the  New  Atlantis,  ap- 
pears from  its  language  to  be  the  first  edition.  The  Atlantis  w&s,  by  Bacon's 
order,  published  after  his  death  by  his  secretary,  Dr.  Rawley.  It  is  insei'ted 
without  date,  though  with  separate  title  page,  between  the  Sylva  Sylvarum, 
1640,  and  the  Hist.  Life  and  Death. 


340  Fit  AN  CIS  BACON 

The  merchants  whom  the  Atlanteans  or  Rosicrueians  Send 
forth  they  call  "  .Merchants  of  Light,"  and  in  "  certain  hymns 
and  services  of  laud  and  thanks  to  Godforhismarvellous  works," 
there  are,  they  say,  forms  of  prayers  invoking  His  aid  and  Mess- 
ing "  for  the  illumination  of  our  labours,  and  the  turning  them 
into  good  and  holy  uses." 

Can  we  read  these  words  without  recalling  one  of  Bacon's 
most  beautiful  prayers,  part  of  which  concludes  the  "  Plan  "  of 
the  Novum  Organum  f  1 

"  Thou,  0  Father!  who  gavest  the  visiblelight  as  the  first-born 
of  Thy  creatures,  and  didst  pour  into  man  the  intellectual  light 
as  the.  top  and  consummation  of  Thy  workmanship,  be  pleased  to 
protect  and  govern  this  work,  which,  coming  from  Thy  goodness, 
returneth  to  Thy  glory. " 

In  another  prayer,  we  find  the  great  student  earnestly  entreat- 
ing that 

"  Human  things  may  not  prejudice  such  as  are  divine  ;  neither 
that  from  the  unlocking  of  the  gates  of  sense,  and  the  kindling 
of  a  greater  natural  light,  anything  of  incredulity  or  intellectual 
night  may  arise  in  our  minds  towards  the  divine  mysteries."  2 

Bacon  is  never  weary  of  finding  analogies  between  the  bright- 
ness of  heaven  and  the  light  of  truth,  knowledge,  heavenly 
thoughts,  "  heaven-born  poesy."  In  the  dullest  minds  some 
spark,  some  glimmer  of  intelligence  ma}',  he  thinks,  be  kindled, 
and  the  faintest  rays  will  penetrate  into  darkest  places. 

"  How  far  that  little  caudle  sheds  its  beams  ! 
So  shines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world." 

It  would  be  a  grand  thing,  he  said,  "  if  a  man  could  succeed 
in  kindling  a  light  in  nature  —  a  light  that  should,  by  its  very 
rising,  touch  and  illuminate  knowledge; "  and  he  describes  the 
ancient  churches  as  "  torches  in  the  dark."  In  the  Wisdom  of 
the  Ancients,  suggestive  metaphors  are  used,  or  fables  expounded 
of  Vulcan  and  the  efficacy  of  fire,  and  of  the  games  of  the  torch 

1  Published  after  his  death  in  Baconiana,  by  his  friend,  T)r.  Tenison,  and  by 
him  entitled  "  The  Writer's  Prayer."    See  Spedding,  Works,  vii.  p.  259. 

2  "The  Student's  Prayer."  lb. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  341 

instituted  to  Prometheus,  in  which  the  object  is  to  keep  the  torch 
alight  and  in  motion.  The  torch  is  like  the  candlestick,  the 
means  by  which  the  light  is  maintained  and  transmitted;  it 
usually  symbolises  the  mind  of  man,  his  "  pure  intelligence." 
"  Solomon,"  Bacon  says, ""  was  one  of  the  clearest  burning  lamps 
whereof  he  himself  speaketh  .  .  .  when  he  saith,  the  spirit  of 
man  is  the  lamp  of  God  ivherewith  He  searcheth  all  inwardness. " 
There  are  men  whom  fortune  has  "  set  on  a  hill;"  they  have 
position,  perhaps,  as  well  as  powers  of  mind ;  wealth  as  well  as 
ability.  These  must  act  as  beacons,1  to  guide  the  traveller  from 
afar;  others  may  perform  the  humbler  but  still  useful  offices  of 
lamps,  lanterns,  tapers,  candles.  The  slightest  efforts,  well  di- 
rected, should  not  be  despised,  and  we  cannot  dispense  with 
even  the  soft  radiance  of  the  "  watch  candle,"  or  the  shy,  retir- 
ing helper,  who  never  will  assert  himself,  and  prefers  to  work 
unrecognised  — 

"  Like  the  glowworm  in  the  night, 
The  which  hath  fire  in  darkness,  none  in  light."  2 

There  are  those  who,  though  incapable  of  emitting  the  light 
of  original  thought  from  themselves,  can  yet  afford  mechanical 
help  to  others.  Such  lowly  but  willing  spirits  are  compared  to 
"  candle-holders,"  or  torch-bearers,  who  do  not  merely  look  on 
whilst  others  labour,  but  who  shed  light  from  the  torch,  which 
has  been  put  into  their  hand.  There  were  and  are  a  multitude 
of  such  candle-holders  in  the  society  of  which  we  speak. 

In  collating  the  Baconian  and  Rosicrucian  works,  no  one  can 
fail  to  observe  the  noble  spirit  of  self-sacrifice,  and  disregard  of 
personal  interest,  which  pervades  them. 

"  Be  not  as  a  lamp  that  shineth  to  others,  and  yet  seeth  not 
itself,  but  as  the  Eye  of  the  World,  that  bothcarrieth  and  useth 

1  It  is  worthy  of  notice  that  the  Bacon  family  in  early  times  spelt  their  name 
Becon  or  Beacon.  Some  of  them  seem  to  have  written  under  this  name,  and 
there  is  a  work  by  Thomas  Becon,  1563-4,  in  which,  on  the  title  page  of  the  sec- 
ond volume,  his  name  changes  from  Becon  to  Beacon.  Francis  Bacon,  who 
"could  not  pass  by  a  jest,"  cannot  have  failed  to  see  this  opportunity  for  a 
quibble. 

2  Pericles,  ii.  3. 


342  FRANCIS  BACON 

light."  i  "  For,"  says  Bacon,  in  another  place,  "  the  sense  is 
God's  lamp, " 2  and  he  gives  the  King  credit  for  being  that  which 
he  desired  him  to  be,  "  a  clear-burning  lamp."  3 

In  the  Novum  Organum,  unwise  experiments  are  compared  to 
a  "  mere  groping  in  the  dark,"  but  the  true  method  of  experi- 
ence first  lights  a  candle,  and  then,  by  means  of  the  candle, 
shows  the  way. "  4  The  communication  of  knowledge  is  de- 
scribed as  that  "  of  one  candle  with  another,  which  lights  up  at 
once."  5  This  is  somewhat  the  same  as  Bacon's  other  figure  of 
"  handing  down  the  lamp  of  tradition. "  He  urges  men  to  unite 
in  one  great  effort,  rather  than  to  fritter  away  their  powers  in 
small  detached  experiments  and  weak  works.  "  Were  it  not 
better  for  a  man  in  a  fair  room  to  set  up  one  great  light  or 
branching  candlestick  of  lights,  than  to  go  about  with  a  small 
watch-candle  in  every  corner?  "  6 

"  For  mere  contemplation,  which  should  be  finished  in  itself 
without  casting  beams  of  light  and  heat  upon  society,  assuredly 
divinity  knows  it  not."  7 

"Heaven  doth  with  us  as  we  with  torches  do, 
Not  light  them  for  ourselves:  for  if  our  virtues 
Did  not  go  forth  of  us,  'twere  all  alike 
As  if  we  had  them  not.    Spirits  are  not  finely  touch'd 
But  to  fine  issues."  8 

The  first  twenty-six  Shakespeare  sonnets  repeat  these  senti- 
ments.    The  poet  reproaches  his  friend, 

"That  thou,  contracted  to  thine  own  bright  eyes, 
Feed'st  thy  life's  flame  with  self-substantial  fire ;  "  9 

and,  although  he  continually  changes  the  figure,  the  same  idea  is 
worked  out  in  many  different  ways.  He  speaks  of  the  enthusi- 
asm which  gives  fire  to  our  nation, 10  and  which  set  men's  hearts  on 
fire;  of  the  fires  of  love,  hatred,  zeal,  or  sedition,  which  glow, 
burn,  smoulder,  are  blown  up  into  flame,  or  smothered  and  ex- 
tinguished ;  n  sparks  which  fly  abroad  lighting  upon  free  and  no- 

1  Gesta  Grai/orum.  Comp.  Partii.  Tamburlaine  the  Great,  iv.  3;  1.  88;  v.  3, 
1.  3,  158.  2  Wat.  Hist.  x.  Prof.  3  Speech.  4  jy0».  Org.  i.  82.  5  Ess.  of  Sphinx. 
6  Advt.  of  L.  i.  1.  Comp.  with  the  above.  1  De  Aug.  vii.  1.  8  See  M.  M.  i.  1, 
29-40.    9  Son.  i.    10  Of  Calling  Pari.  1615.     n  Hist.  Hew.  VII, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  343 

ble  minds  and  spirits  apt  to  be  kindled ;  sparks  of  affection,  of 
grace,  "  liberty,  spirit,  and  edge."  i  "  My  heart,"  be  says,  in 
one  of  bis  prayers,  "  batb  been  an  unquencbed  coal  on  tbine 
altar. " 

"  Have  a  care,"  says  one  of  tbe  councillors  in  Bacon's  device, 
"  Tbe  Order  of  tbe  Helmet,"  "  tbat  tbe  ligbt  of  your  state  do 
not  go  out,  or  burn  dim  or  obscure. "  Bacon  was  continually 
trying  to  urge  upon  tbe  sovereign  for  tbe  time  being,  ber  or  bis 
duties  and  responsibilities  in  regard  to  tbe  banding  on  of  tbe 
lamp.  He  received  little  encouragement  from  Elizabeth,  but  by 
dint  of  impressing  upon  tbe  mind  of  tbe  King,  not  only  tbat  be 
ought  to  assist  learning,  but  that  he  was  learned,  and  capable  of 
doing  what  be  pleased  in  the  fields  of  literature  and  science,  he 
seems  to  have  succeeded  in  making  that  dull  monarch  appear, 
and  believe  himself  to  be,  something  like  the  bright  creature 
which  Bacon  so  earnestly  desires  that  he  should  become.  There 
"  are  joined  in  your  Majesty  the  light  of  nature,  the  light  of  learn- 
ing, and  the  light  of  God's  holy  spirit  (and  that)  fourth  light, 
the  light  of  a  most  wise  and  well-compounded  counsel.  "2 

A  watch-candle  is  the  emblem  of  "  care  and  observation. "  In 
a  letter  to  King  James  (May  31,  1612)  Bacon  says :  "  My  good 
old  mistress  was  pleased  to  call  me  ber  watch -candle,  because  it 
pleased  her  to  say  I  did  continually  burn  (and  yet  she  suffered 
me  to  waste  almost  to  nothing). "  Elsewhere  he  says :  "  There 
should  be  a  sort  of  night-watch  set  over  nature,  as  showing  her- 
self rather  by  night  than  by  day.  For  these  may  be  regarded 
as  night  studies,  hy  reason  of  the  smallness  of  the  candle  and  its 
continual  burning. "  3 

Amongst  our  candlesticks  isone  (Plate  VIII.)  from  the  Observa- 
tions on  Ccesar's  Commentaries  of  1609.  This  volume  has  on  its 
title-page  a  medallion  portrait  of  a  young  man,  sixteen  or  seven- 
teen years  of  age,  who  bears  a  striking  likeness  to  the  juvenile 
portraits  of  Francis  Bacon.  These  Observations  on  "  those 
most  excellent  Commentaries  that  Csesar  writ  "  4  are  published 

1  Advt.  ii.,  De  Auq.  viii.  2,  etc.  2  Pacification  of  the  Church.  3  jy0v. 
Org.  ii.   4.    *  2  Hen.  VI.  iv.  7, 


344  FRANCIS  BACON 

with  the  name  of  "  Clement  Edmundes,  Remembrancer  of  the 
Cittie  of  London. "  To  occupy  such  a  position  Edmundes  must 
have  been  a  man  of  some  standing;  his,  therefore,  cannot  be  the 
boyish  portrait  which  figures  at  the  top  of  this  title-page.  May 
we  not  rather  believe  it  to  be  that  of  the  youth  who  for  seven  years 
devoted  himself,  heart  and  soul,  to  the  study  of  the  ancient 
authors,  and  who  thus  speaks  of  these  very  Commentaries,  with 
which  we  see  that  he  was  more  than  ordinarily  acquainted  ?  1 

"  As  for  Julius  Caesar,  the  excellency  of  his  learning  needeth 
not  to  be  argued  from  his  education,  or  his  company,  or  his 
speeches;  but  in  a  farther  degree  doth  declare  itself  in  his  writ- 
ings and  works;  whereof  some  are  extant  and  permanent,  and 
some  have  unfortunately  perished.  For  first  .  .  .  there  is  left 
unto  us  that  excellent  history  of  his  own  tears,  which  he  entitled 
only  a  Commentary,  .  .  .  wherein  all  succeeding  times  have 
admired  the  solid  weight  of  matter,  and  the  real  passages  and' 
lively  images  of  actions  and  persons,  expressed  in  the  greatest 
propriety  of  words  and  perspicacity  of  narration  that  ever  was.  "2 

The  one  little  candlestick  referred  to  is  the  only  one  of  the 
kind  which  as  yet  we  have  met  with  ;  it  may,  however,  be  ex- 
pected that  other  examples  will  be  found  in  early  editions  of 
some  of  the  boyish  works  published  by  his  friends;  for  we  sup- 
pose this  figure  to  represent  some  utterance  or  aspiration  of  the 
youthful  student,  that  he  might  himself  be  a  humble  light,  or 
candle-holder,  for  others.  This  conjecture  is  not  unreasonable, 
seeing  that  immediately  after  his  death,  and  for  fifty  years  sub- 
sequently, his  immediate  friends  and  followers  developed  and 
made  conspicuous  use  of  this  symbol  in  editions  of  his  ac- 
knowledged works,  and  in  others  which  we  ascribe  to  him. 

And  would  any  one  find  it  easy  to  devise  an  emblematic 
water-mark  more  suitable  for  works  such  as  Francis  Bacon  en- 
gaged in  than  this  of  the  double  candlesticks,  with  their 
varied,  "  bifold  "  meanings?  Once  perhaps  the  mounts  of 
knowledge,  then  rocks,   castles,  towers  difficult  to  scale    or 

1  Again  we  insert  a  saving  clause  in  regard  to  "  Anthonie,"  the  "  deare 
brother,"  fellow-student  in  youth,  twin  in  mind  and  face,  who  may  prove  to 
have  been  the  translator  orinditer  of  these  "Commentaries."  2  See  a  long 
criticism,  from  which  the  above  is  condensed — Advancement  of  Learning,  i,  I. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  345 

surmount  —  pillars  of  Hercules,  bounding  and  obstructing 
liuin an  knowledge  and  aspiration — they  are  now  converted 
irito  pillars  of  light,  beacons  for  guidance  and  encouragement  to 
distressed  and  weary  travellers.  Tbey  are  lights  of  truth  and 
beauty.  The  divine  light  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  the  light  of 
the  human  intellect.  The  light  of  God's  word  and  the  light  of 
nature.  God's  "  two  witnesses,  .  .  .  the  two  candlesticks 
standing  before  the  God  of  the  Earth. "  1 

In  combination  with  the  candlesticks  are  fleur-de-lis,  trefoil, 
pearls,  and  other  symbols  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  sometimes  an 
E  C  or  C  E ;  almost  invariably  grapes  piled  in  a  pyramid  or 
diamond.  .  The  bunch  of  grapes,  alone,  or  in  combination  with 
other  figures,  is  the  second  great  mark  in  Bacon's  books ;  he 
has  explained  their  symbolism : 

"  As  wines  which  flow  gently  from  the  first  treading  of  the 
grape  are  sweeter  than  those  that  are  squeezed  out  by  the  wine- 
press, because  these  last  have  some  taste  of  the  stones  and  skin 
of  the  grape ;  so  those  doctrines  are  very  sweet  and  healthy 
which  flow  from  a  gentle  pressure  of  the  Scripture,  and  are  not 
wrested  to  controversies  and  commonplaces."2 

Again  :  "  I  find  the  wisdom  of  the  ancients  to  be  like  grapes 
ill-trodden  :  something  is  squeezed  out ;  but  the  best  parts  are 
left  behind;"  3  and  he  likens  the  laws  to  "  the  grapes  that,  be- 
ing too  much  pressed,  yield  an  hard  and  unwholesome  wine." 
His  own  "  method,  as  wholesome  as  sweet, "  4  tolerant  of  other 
men's  opinions,  whilst  firm  in  his  own,  appears  in  these  words : 

"  I  may  say,  then,  of  myself  (since  it  marks  the  distinction  so 
truly),  it  cannot  be  that  we  should  think  alike,  token  one  drinks 
water  and  the  other  wine.  .  .  .  Now,  other  men  have,  in  the 
matter  of  sciences,  drunk  a  crude  liquor  like  water,  either  flow- 
ing spontaneously  from  the  understanding,  or  drawn  up  by 
logic,  as  by  wheels  from  a  well.  Whereas  I  pledge  mankind  in 
a  liquor  pressed  from  countless  grapes  —  from  grapes  ripe  and 
fully  seasoned,  collected  in  clusters,  and  gathered,  and  then 
squeezed  in  the  press,  and  then,  finally,  purified  and  clarified 
in  the  vat."  5 

1  En-elatlous,  xi.  3,  4.  2  Be  Aug.  ix.  1,  3  Controversies  of  the  Church, 
4  Sam.  ii.  2.    5  Nw.  Org.  i.  123. 


346  FRANCIS  BACON 

And  here,  in  his  books,  are  the  grapes  in  clusters  or  "  collec- 
tions "  ready  for  the  "  first  vintage."  Books  of  all  kinds,  and 
in  all  degrees  of  "crudity,"  will  be  found  to  contain  these 
famous  symbolic  paper-marks,  of  which  only  a  few  examples 
can  here  be  given.  Pray,  my  readers,  heed  them,  note  them, 
and  add  to  the  list  appended  to  this  chapter.  If  not  in  one 
edition,  yet  in  another,  of  every  work  of  Bacon,  writ  by  the 
light  of  God's  two  candlesticks,  these  grapes  will  be  found.  He 
was  at  first  treading  the  wine-press  alone,  and  his  efforts  were 
those  pioneer  labours  often  so  painful,  and  so  unrewarded  to 
the  performer,  but  which  "  smooth  successors  their  way." 

"  Since  truth,"  he  says,  "  will  sooner  come  out  from  error  than 
from  confusion,  I  think  it  expedient  that  the  understanding 
should  be  permitted"  (after  "  a  due  presentation  of  instances," 
or  collection  of  facts  on  the  subject  in  hand)  "  to  make  a  kind  of 
essay,  which  I  call  the  Indulgence  of  the  Understanding,  or  the 
Commencement  of  Interpretation,  or  the  First  Vintage. "  Then 
he  proceeds  to  press,  out  of  the  few  facts  which  he  has  been  able 
to  collect,  "  a  first  vintage,"  on  the  nature  of  heat. 

Perhaps  we  may  gain  hints  as  to  the  degree  of  completion 
which  Bacon  considered  that  certain  of  his  works  had  attained, 
by  the  number  of  the  grapes,  or  the  perfection  of  the  diamond 
shape  in  which  many  of  the  bunches  are  arranged.  In  this  dia- 
mond we  are  reminded  of  the  "  heavenly  jewel  "  of  knowledge, 
the  reason  and  speech  which  Bacon  says  is  especially  the 
divine  gift  to  man.  Where  there  is  not  this  form,  a  fleur- 
de-lis  or  the  letters  R  C  have  been  almost  invariably  found. 
The  latter,  often  combined  with  another  letter,  are  con- 
jectured to  be  a  signature  of  the  Rosicrucian  brother 
by  whose  aid  the  work  was  produced ;  as,  for  instance,  in 
Cynthia's  Revels,  two  distinct  forms  of  I  R  C  are  found,  which 
may  mean  "  Ionson,  Rosy  Cross."  l  The  same  letters  are  in  a 
bar  in  the  last  page  of  Shakespeare,  1623,  but  they  are  differ- 
ently arranged  —  R  C  I,  and  a  reversed  C,  as  may  be  seen  in 

1  Often  the  letters  are  very  confused  or  inverted,  or  written  so  that  they  can 
only  he  read  in  a  mirror.  This  complicates  matters.  We  do  not  pretend  to  give 
positive  opinions  ahout  these  things. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  347 

Plate  XL  7,  Plate  XII.  46,  52.  It  is  well  known  how  Ben  Jouson 
laboured  in  the  production  of  that  famous  folio.  But,  with  re- 
gard to  the  oft-repeated  fleur-de-lis,  again  we  are  remiuded  that 
the  truth  which  we  express  is  itself  divine;  that  it  is  of  the 
nature  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  Himself  guides  us  unto  all  truth. 
"  To  one  is  given  by  the  Spirit  the  word  of  wisdom ;  to  another, 
the  word  of  knowledge,  by  the  same  Spirit;  to  another,  faith ;  .  .  . 
to  another,  the  gifts  of  healing;  ...  to  another,  prophecy;  to 
auother,  divers kiuds of  tongues;  to  another,  the  interpretation  of 
tongues,  hut  all  these  worketh  that  self-same  Spirit,  dividing  to 
every  man  severally  as  he  will."  1 

The  grape,  more  than  any  other  fruit,  furnished  Bacon's 
bright  imagination  with  images  by  which  to  explain  his  ideas  of 
the  cheering  and  stimulating  effects  of  true  knowledge;  its 
tendency  as  a  vine  to  spread  and  ramify,  and  in  its  fruits  to 
cluster.  As  in  many  places  he  shows  that  all  sciences  hang  to- 
gether like  liuks  in  one  great  chain,  so  here  he  finds  that  though 
"  chance  discovereth  new  inventions  by  one  and  one,  science 
finds  them  by  clusters,"  2  and  "  axioms  rightly  discovered  .  .  . 
produce  works,  not  here  or  there  one,  but  in  clusters."  3  True 
to  himself  in  his  longing  after  truth,  and  his  aversion  to  con- 
troversy, he  exclaims:  "  God  grant  that  we  may  contend  with 
other  churches,  as  the  vine  tvith  the  olive,  which  of  us  shall  bear 
best  fruit ;  and  not  as  the  briar  with  the  thistle,  which  of  us  is 
most  unprofitable."4 

When  we  come  to  a  consideration  of  title-pages  and  their 
hieroglyphic  illustrations,  we  shall  again  see  the  viue  in  full 
bearing,  supported  by  pillars  or  props,  the  powerful  or  wealthy 
authorities  in  church  and  state,  or  the  munificent  "  benefactors" 
of  private  life,  who,  though  they  could,  perhaps,  not  contribute 
to  the  clusters  or  the  growth  of  the  vine,  could  help  to  protect 
and  maintain  it.  For,  Bacon  again  explains,  "  the  sympathy 
of  preservation  is  as  .  .  .  the  vine  which  ivill  creep  towards  a 
stake  or  prop  that  stands  near  it."  5 


l  Cor.  xii.  8-11.       %1-nstn.  Nat.  11.        3  Gt.  lnstn.  Plan,  rep.  Nov.  Org.  i.  70, 
4  Controversies  of  (he  Church,    5  Apologia,  1603, 


348  FEANCIS  BACON 

Like  almost  all  of  Bacon's  chosen  or  adopted  symbols,  the 
vine,  as  the  emblem  of  truth,  is  very  ancient.  Indian  mythol- 
ogy represents  Osiris  (the  Grecian  Bacchus)  as  a  wonderful  con- 
queror who  travelled  over  the  face  of  the  whole  earth,  winning 
territories  wherever  he  came,  yet  to  the  advantage  of  those 
whom  he  subdued.  Here  is  Bacon's  figure  of  "  taking  all  knowl- 
edge to  be  his  province,"  for  the  benefit  of  humanity. 

Osiris  is  said  to  be  the  son  of  Rhea  (the  Holy  Spirit),  and  his 
chief  attendants  were  Pan,  Nature ;  a  dog,  Experience ;  Maro,  a 
great  planter  of  the  vine  (of  knowledge);  and  Triptolemus,  much 
skilled  in  husbandry.  He  is  described  with  the  Nine  Muses  and 
the  Sciences  in  his  train.  It  is  needless  to  follow  the  mythical 
Osiris  into  his  various  connections  with  Apollo,  music,  songs, 
danciug,  and  with  the  arts  of  speech  and  healing.  All  these 
spring  from  truth,  nature,  and  cultivation  of  the  mind  and  soul  — 
(husbandry);  and  that  the  vine  was  from  the  earliest  times  the 
symbol  of  truth,  is  certain  from  many  passages  of  the  Holy 
Scripture,  where  Jesus  Christ  even  speaks  of  himself  under  this 
figure.  "  I  am  the  true  vine,  and  my  Father  is  the  husband- 
man. Every  branch  in  me  that  beareth  not  fruit,  he  purgethit, 
that  it  may  bring  forth  more  fruit. "  l 

The  poet  philosopher  has  collected  his  clusters,  and  it  remains 
to  express  them,  and  to  store  up  the  precious  juice  so  that  in 
due  season  it  may  be  poured  into  other  men's  vessels. 

In  the  Promushe  condenses  into  two  words  an  adage  of  Eras- 
mus, "  Vasis  —  Fons. "  2  The  man  who  can  originate  nothing, 
but  who  draws  all  from  others  is  the  vase ;  the  source  whence 
he  draws  is  the  fountain.  Bacon  adopts  this  notion,  and  ex- 
pands it  in  all  directions,  humbly  appropriating  to  himself  the 
functions  of  the  cistern,  bucket,  vase,  pot,  or  pitcher.  "  I  am, 
as  I  formerly  said,  but  a  bucket  and  cistern  to  that  fountain, " 
and  so  he  wrote  in  a  Latin  letter  to  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge : 


1  John,  xv.  1.  And  see  Ezekiel,  xvii.  5-10.  Psl.  lxxx.  14,  15.  Canticles,  i. 
16;  vi.  11;  vii.  12;  viii.  11-12.  Jer.  ii.  21.  Rev.  xiv.  18.  Matt.  xx.  1-7,  etc. 
zPivmas,  698,  from  Eras:  Adagia,  292. 


AND  HIS  SEGUET  SOCIETY.  349 

«  All  things,  and  all  the  growths  thereof,  are  due  to  their  be- 
einnincrs.  And,  therefore,  seeing  that  I  dreiv  my  beginnings  of 
knowledge  from  your  fountains,  I  have  thought  it  right  to  return 
to  you  the  increase  of  the  same." 

Elsewhere  he  says  that  "  the  mind  of  man  is  not  a  vessel 
sufficiently  capacious  to  comprehend  knowledge  without  helps," 
and  that  the  "  Divine  water  of  knowledge  is  first  forced  up  into 
a  cistern  and  thence  fetched  and  drawn  for  use,  or  else  it  is  re- 
ceived in  buckets  and  vessels  immediately  where  it  springeth." 
"  Divinity, "  he  adds,  "  hath  been  reduced  to  an  art,  as  into  a  cis- 
tern, and  the  streams  of  doctrine  fetched  and  derived  from 

thence. " 1 
The  means  for  the  advancement  of  learning,  he  says,  include 

three  things : 

"  The  places  of  learning,  the  books  of  learning,  and  the  per- 
sons of  the  learned.  For  as  water,  whether  it  be  the  dew  ot 
heaven,  or  the  springs  of  the  earth,  easily  scatters  and  loses 
itself  in  the  ground,  except  it  be  collected  into  some  receptacle, 
where  it  may,  by  union,  consort,  comfort,  and  sustain  itself  (and 
for  that  cause  the  industry  of  man  has  devised  aqueducts,  cis- 
terns, and  pools),  ...  so  this  excellent  liquor  of  knowledge, 
whether  it  descend  from  divine  inspiration,  or  spring  from 
human  sense,  would  soon  perish  and  vanish  into  oblivion,  it  it 
were  not  preserved  in  books,  traditions,  and  conferences,  and 
specially  in  places  appointed  for  such  matters." 

These  passages  are  sufficient  to  show  the  drift  of  Bacon's 
ideas  with  regard  to  the  vase  or  pitcher  symbol.  It  is  to  remind 
us  that  the  heavenly  liquor  of  knowledge  must  not  be  wasted, 
but  stored  up  and  poured  forth  for  the  use  and  delight  of  others. 
This  pitcher  or  pot  is  impressed  not  only  on  the  private  letters 
of  Francis  and  Anthony  Bacon— or  perhaps  it  is  safer  to  say, 
of  the  Bacon  family  — and  their  confidential  correspondents,  but 
on  the  pages  of  nearly  every  English  edition  of  works  acknowl- 
edged as  "  Bacon's,"  published  before  the  eighteenth  century. 

l  Observe  the  frequency  of  the  vase  as  a  decoration  in  the  architecture  of  our 
great  buildings  dedicated  to  art,  science,  or  literature  Although  often,  in  mod- 
emedifices,  private  houses,  etc.,  this  symbol  is  used  ignorantly  and  as  a  mere 
ornament,  it  was  not  so  two  or  three  hundred  years  ago,  nor  is  it  always  so  at 
the  present  day. 


350  FRANCIS  BACON 

There  are  certain  accessories  to  the  Baconian  pitchers,  one  at 
least  being  always  present :  (1)  A  rising  sun,  formed  by  the 
cover  or  round  top  of  the  pot;  (2)  five  rays;  (3)  pearls;  (4)  fleur-de- 
lis;  (5)  a  four-petaled  flower,  or  a  Maltese  cross;  (G)  a  moon  or 
crescent;  (7)  the  bull's  horns  in  a  crown;  (8)  grapes;  (9)  a  dia- 
mond, triangle,  ellipse,  or  heart.  Sometimes  there  are  two  han- 
dles distinctly  formed,  as  SS ;  often  on  the  body  of  the  pot  are 
letters  —  they  maybe  initials,  asAB,  and  F  B,  often  found  in  the 
correspondence  of  the  brothers;  or  S  S,  Sanctum  Sanctorum, 
etc.;  R  C,  Rosy  Cross ;  F  or  F  F,  Frater  or  Fratres;  G  G,  Grand 
Geometrician — God,  according  to  Freemason  books. 

Besp.    In  the  midst  of  Solomon's  Temple  there  stands  a  G, 

A  letter  for  all  to  read  and  see ; 

But  few  there  be  that  understand 

What  means  the  letter  G. 
Ex.        My  friend,  if  you  pretend  to  be  of  this  Fraternity 

Tou  can  forthwith  and  rightly  tell  what  means  that  letter  G. 

This  letter  was  associated  with  the  third  sacred  name 
of  God  in  Hebrew — Ghadol,  Magnus;  but  also  the  Masonic 
Cyclopaedia  refers  it  to  the  Syriac  Gad,  the  German  Gott,  the 
English  God,  all  derived  from  the  Persian  Goda,  signifying 
Himself.  The  reference  to  Geometry  is  to  be  seen  in  the  con- 
cluding lines  of  the  above  doggerel,  which,  says  the  encyclopae- 
dist, may  go  for  what  it  is  worth  : 

"  By  letters  four  and  science  five, 
This  G  aright  doth  stand, 
In  a  due  art  and  proportion ; 
You  have  your  answer,  friend." 

The  pot  was  one  of  the  earliest  paper-marks ;  in  examples  as 
old  as  1352  we  find  it  extremely  rude  in  outline,  like  an  ill-drawn 
pint-pot  of  the  present  day,  or  of  the  same  proportions,  round- 
bodied.  1  Perhaps  the  original  mark  alluded  to  the  pot  of 
manna  said  to  have  been  laid  up  in  the  Ark  of  the  Covenant  by 
Aaron.     This  pot  of  manna  is  mentioned  in  the  "  Royal  Arch 

1  See  "Etudes  sur  les  Filigraves  des  Papwrs,"  E.  ilidioux  et  A.  Matton,  1868. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  351 

Degree"  in  Masonry,  but  the  author  of  the  Royal  Masonic  Cyclo- 
pedia rejects  it,  sayiug  that  it  has  no  significance.  In  later 
specimens  than  Caxton's  the  pot  becomes  usually  more  graceful, 
and  more  like  the  sacramental  chalice,  yet  without  having  any 
of  the  accessories  enumerated  above. 

If  Francis  Bacon  or  his  father,.  Sir  Nicholas,  helped  to  devise 
new  or  to  develop  old  symbolic  water-marks,  this  idea  of  a  pot  of 
manna  would  commend  itself  to  them,  lending  itself  easily  to 
the  further  development  of  pots  and  jugs  whence  issue  bunches 
of  grapes  —  the  fruits  of  knowledge ;  pearls,  the  dew  of  heaven  — 
Wisdom ;  manna,  the  spiritual  food,  all  symbols  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  Truth,  the  gifts  of  reason  and  sweet  speech,  which  link 
themselves  together  in  such  passages  as  the  following  from  the 
Natural  History,  or  Sylva  Sylvarum :  i 

"  There  be  three  things  for  sweetness :  sugar,  honey,  manna. 
...  I  have  heard  from  one  that  was  industrious  in  husbandry 
that  the  labour  of  the  bee  is  about  the  wax,  and  that  he  hath 
known  in  the  beginning  of  May  honeycombs  empty  of  honey,  and 
within  a  fortnight,  when  the  sweet  dews  fall,  filled  like  a  cellar." 

A  note  in  Spedding's  edition  of  the  Works  says  here :  "  Bacon's 
informant  took  the  same  view  of  the  matter  as  Aristotle,  and  proba- 
bly was  directly  or  indirectly  influenced  by  his  opinion.  Accord- 
ing to  Aristotle,  the  bees  manufacture  the  wax  from  flowers,  but 
simply  collect  the  honey  which  falls  from  the  sky." 

The  "  informant, "  we  think,  was  probably  Aristotle  himself, 
and  Bacon  was  here  thinking  of  his  own  husbandry  and  of  the 
hive  in  which  he  made  the  frame  or  comb,  wherein  the  labour 
consisted,  whilst  his  busy  working  bees  merely  collected  the  dew  of 
knowledge  without  any  great  exertion  to  themselves,  but  thus 
enabling  him  rapidly  to  store  up  and  methodise  it  for  the  advance- 
ment of  learning. 

"It  is  reported  by  some  of  the  ancients  that  there  is  a  tree 
called  Occhus  in  the  valleys  of  Hyrcania  that  distilleth  honey  in 
the  mornings.     It  is  not  unlike  that  the  saps  and  tears  of  some 

l  This  work,  as  has  been  said,  is  considered  by  the  present  writer  to  be  a  mas- 
terpiece of  ambiguous  writing—  a  study  in  metaphor  and  simile  from  beginning 
to  end.  These  extracts  concerning  manna  are  thus  interpreted.  See  Emblems, 
etc. 


352  FRANCIS  BACON 

trees  may  be  sweet.  It  may  also  be  tbat  some  sweet  juices  may 
be  concocted  out  of  fruits  to  the  thickness  of  sugar.  The  like- 
liest are  the  raisins  of  the  sun  [i.  e.,  grapes}.  The  manna  of 
Calabria  .  .  .  is  gathered  from  the  leaf  of  the  mulberry  tree,  but 
not  upon  such  mulberry  trees  as  grow  in  the  valleys.  Manna  fall- 
eth  upon  the  leaves  by  night,  as  other  dews  do.  .  .  .  Certainly  it 
were  not  amiss  to  observe  a  little  the  deivs  that  fall  upon  trees  or 
herbs  growing  upon  mountains ;  for  it  may  be  many  dews 
fall  that  spend  before  they  come  to  the  valleys  ;  and  I  suppose 
that  he  that  would  gather  the  best  May -dew  for  medicine  should 
gather  it  from  the  hills. "  1 

Here,  as  in  the  preceding  passage,  Bacon  had  in  his  mind  the 
collecting  of  manna  and  other  of  the  sweetest  things  which  fall 
chiefly  from  heaven,  and  the  "  distilling  "  and  "  concocting  " 
them  into  poetry  —  "sugared  sonnets,"  "honeyed  words," 
with  the  dew  of  heaven,  filled  with  thoughts  and  words  sweeter 
than  manna. 

What  is  the  idea  connected  with  all  those  crescent  moons  ? 
It  is,  we  think,  a  very  deep  and  comprehensive  thought,  and  to 
illustrate  it  we  must  turn  to  books  of  Hindu  mythology,  to  the 
Rabbinical  writings,  and  to  the  Masonic  symbolism  drawn,  it 
would  seem,  from  those  ancient  springs  of  mysticism.2 

In  the  second  Book  of  Kings,  xxiii.  5,  it  is  said  that  Josiah 
put  down  them  that  burnt  incense  unto  Baal  (the  Sun)  and  to 
the  Moon,  and  Mazaloth.  This  word  signifies,  literally,  the 
flowing  or  distillations  which  emanated  from  the  spirit  of  waters. 
And  again,  in  Isaiah  lxv.  11,  we  read,  "  Te  are  they  that  pre- 
pare a  table  for  God,  and  that  furnish  an  offering  for  Meni, " 
that  is,  for  the  Holy  Spirit,  called  plurally  the  dispensers  or  dis- 
tributers of  the  manna  or  bread  from  Heaven.3 

Here,  then,  the  moon  and  the  dew,  pearls,  or  heavenly  food, 
are  associated.  "Meni,"  the  Holy  Spirit,  was  adored  by  the 
Arabians  under  the  name  of  Ma  Nab ;  and  this  adds  great  in- 
terest to  the  symbolic  miracle  of  the  supernatural  feeding  of  the 

1  Sylva  Sylvarum,  612,  781.  2  See  for  detailed  particulars  "The  Book  of 
God."  Vol.  i.  9-68;  ii.  102,  260,  iii.  31,  35,  205,  316,  324.  559. 

3  This  is  the  reading  in  the  margin.  Old  editions  print  troop  for  "  God,"  and 
"  that  number"  for  "  Meni,"  thus  obscuring  the  sense.  The  marginal  readings 
of  modern  Bibles  give  the  version  of  our  text  above. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  353 

Israelites  during  their  stay  in  the#wilderness.  The  manna  with 
which  they  were  supported  was  symbolic  of  the  Ma  Nah —  the 
nourisher,  the  comforter,  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God.  Surely,  living 
as  they  were  in  Arabia  (the  very  country  where  Ma  Nah  was 
adored)  the  Israelites  must  have  been  well  aware  of  the  symbolic 
or  mystical  meaning  of  the  heavenly  food  which  was  for  many 
months  their  daily  bread. 

Then  again  we  read  in  the  Bible  that  the  Ark  of  the  Covenant 
(the  sacred  chest  or  coffer  which  was  deposited  in  the  most  holy 
place  of  the  Tabernacle  and  the  Temple)  was  made  the  re- 
ceptacle of  the  original  tables  of  the  law,  of  a  quantity  of  manna 
in  a  golden  pot,  and  of  Aaron's  rod  that  had  budded.  Here  is, 
therefore,  a  connection  between  manna  and  a  pot.  The  manna 
was  found  by  the  Israelites  in  the  early  morning,  after  the  dew 
had  evaporated,  and  before  the  sun  had  sufficiently  risen  to 
melt  it.  Manna,  the  deio,  and  the  rise  of  the  sun  are  thus  con- 
nected. An  omer  of  the  manna  was  preserved  as  a  memorial  in 
the  sanctuary,  testifying  to  God's  power  and  willingness  to  give 
food  for  the  subsistence  of  his  people,  in  the  most  apparently 
destitute  circumstances. 

The  names  Meni  and  Mazaloth,  used  by  Isaiah,1  both  mean  the 
"  Holy  Spirit  of  God, "  the  "  Bread  Dispensers. "  Meni  was  also 
Mona,  and  Mon  (Welsh),  the  Sacred  Mountain  of  Paradise;  she 
was  Mens,  the  Everlasting  Mind,  the  Logos  of  the  Gentiles. 

Now  observe  the  highly-figurative  nature  of  the  passage  lately 
quoted  from  the  Sylva  Sylvarum.  The  manna,  the  sweet  dews 
which  fall  in  the  stillness  of  the  night,  are  not  found  upon  such 
mulberry  trees  as  grow  in  the  valleys,  but  upon  trees  and  herbs 
growing  upon  the  mountains,  the  sacred  hills  and  mounts  of 
knowledge,  the  Mountain  of  Paradise,  the  Everlasting  Mind. 
Here,  indeed,  we  see  the  apparently  dry  notes  of  a  commonplace 
book  gilded  by  the  beams  of  heaven-born  poesy,  and  converted 
into  "  gold  potable,"  a  parable  "  deep  and  rich,"  truly  "drawn 
from  the  centre  of  the  sciences." 


i  Isaiah,  lsv. 


354 


FRANCIS  BACON 


Observe,  farther,  how  often  the  pearls  and  rays  of  our  pots 
arrange  themselves  in  fives. 

Five  is  the  central  figure  in  the  mystical  square  of  the  Hindus, 
used  by  them  as  an  amulet,  designed  to  represent  the  whole 
world. 

The  even  numbers  (by  a  mystic  symbolism  which  cannot  here 
be  explained)  designate  the  earthy,  and  the  uneven  numbers 
the  heavenly  bodies.  The  numbers,  as  arranged  in  this  cube, 
form  in  every  direction  the  sum  of  fifteen,  this  number  consist- 
ing of  the  sacred  3,  emblem  of  the  Supreme  Being,  and  of  12, 
the  number  of  the  "  Messengers"  in  Hindu  theology. 


6 

7 

2 

1 

5 

9 

8 

3 

4 

The  number  5  thus  occupies  the  middle  station,  and  desig- 
nates the  Soul  of  the  World.  This  anima  mundi,  soul  of  the 
world,  is  a  central  idea  in  the  doctrine  of  the  microcosm — man, 
a  little  world  in  himself.  Upon  this  a  large  portion  of  Bacon's 
philosophy  hinges.  It  is  also  of  fundamental  importance  in  the 
philosophy  and  mysticism  of  the  Kosicrucians,  which  cannot  be 
properly  understood  without  some  knowledge  of  its  meaning. 
The  Hermetic  books  are,  as  has  been  shown,  full  of  allusions  to 
it,  as  the  Holy  Light,  the  Holy  Spirit  — "air  shining  with 
ethereal  light. "    Just  so  Bacon  describes  the  soul,  as  "  of  an 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  355 

airy  and  flamy  nature, "  and  thus  this  goddess  of  the  Hindus 
and  the  Egyptians !  is  described  as  "  The  Soul  of  the  World. " 
In  the  mystical  square  of  15,  the  Hindus  draw  a  figure  of  a 
man  with  his  hands  and  feet  extended  to  the  four  corners.  He 
is  the  image  of  the  world,  a  real  microcosm;  as  Bacon  says, 
"  an  ancient  emblem  that  man  was  a  microcosm  or  epitome  of 
the  world. "  2  In  a  work  which  the  present  writer  believes  to  be 
Bacon's  —  written  or  dictated  by  him  about  the  year  1600  —  we 
read: 

"  Man  in  the  beginning  (I  mean  the  substantiall  inward  mau), 
both  in  and  after  his  creation  for  some  short  time,  was  a  pure 
Intellectual  Essence,  free  from  all  fleshly,  sensuall  affections. 
In  this  state  the  Anima,  or  Sensitive  Nature,  did  not  prevail 
over  the  spirituall  as  it  doth  now  in  us.  For  the  superior  men- 
tall  part  of  man  was  united  to  God  by  an  essentiall  contact,  • 
and  the  Divine  Light,  being  received  in  and  conveyed  to  the 
inferiour  parts  of  the  Soul,  did  mortifie  all  carnal  desires.  .  .  . 
The  sensuall,  ccelestial,  sethereal  part  of  a  man  is  that  whereby 
we  move,  see,  feel,  taste,  and  smell,  and  have  commerce  with 
all  material  objects  whatsoever.  ...  In  plain  terms,  it  is  part 
of  the  Soul  of  the  World. " 

The  writer  explains  at  some  length  the  nature  of  "  this  medial 
soul  or  ethereal  nature,"  and  how  by  its  means  man's  mind  is 
tuned  to  the  ccelestial  harmonies.  He  repeats,  though  in  dif- 
ferent words,  many  Baconian  ideas  of  the  vital  spirits  which  are 
in  all  nature  —  "  in  man,  in  beasts,  in  vegetables,  in  minerals, 
and  in  everything  this  spirit  is  the  mediate  cause  of  composition 
and  multiplication;  "  adding  remarks  which  echo  precisely  the 
ideas  in  the  Be  Augmentis  of  the  biform  figure  of  nature — the 
sensual  nature  of  man  as  contrasted  or  allied  with  the  rational 
spririt,— the  Mens,  or  concealed  intelligence.  (Here  we  have 
the  Meni,  the  Moon,  explained  before.)  "  Now,  as  the  divine 
light  flowing  into  the  Mens  (or  intellect)  did  assimilate  and  con- 
vert the  inferior  portions  of  the  soul  to  God,  so,  on  the  contrary, 

1  The  Egyptians,  though  describing  her  as  a  Mother,  yet  use  the  masculine 
pronoun  in  speaking  of  her.     See  The  Book  of  God,  i.  147. 

2  The  Microcosm  will  be  fully  explained  when  we  come  to  speak  of  the 
Symbolic  Language  of  Bacon's  Secret  Society. 


356  FRANCIS  BACON 

the  tree  of  knowledge  did  darken  and  obscure  the  superior  por- 
tions, but  awaked  and  stirred  up  the  sinful  nature.  The  sum  of 
this  is  —  man."1 

The  writer  winds  up  his  treatise  by  "  saluting  the  memory  of 
Cornelius  Agrippa."  "He  is  indeed  my  author,  and  next  to 
God  I  owe  all  that  I  have  to  him. "  The  Poet-philosopher  then 
concludes  with  some  verses  to  this  "  great,  glorious  penman  !  " 

"  The  spirits  of  his  lines  infuse  a  fire 
Like  the  World's  Soul,  which  makes  me  thus  aspire." 

In  another  Rosicrucian  document,  or  treatise  (which  we  also 
attribute  directly  to  Bacon),  the  same  thoughts  are  returned  to, 
in  different  language.  It  is  not  enough,  says  the  writer,  to  call 
the  inward  principle  of  life  "  a  form,  and  so  bury  up  the  riches 
of  nature  in  this  narrow  and  most  absurd  formality.  ...  To 
be  plain,  then,  this  principle  (of  rational  intelligence)  is  the  soul 
of  the  world,  or  the  universall  spirit  of  nature."2 

In  Timon  of  Athens  there  is  a  satirical  allusion  to  the  sad  fall 
of  man  from  the  first  "  pure  intellectual  essence  in  which  he  was 
created, "  free  from  all  fleshly  and  sensual  affections.  Noting 
the  ingratitude,  the  "  monstrousness  of  man,"  in  days  "  when 
men  must  learn  to  dispense  with  pity,  for  policy  sits  above  con- 
science," the  First  Stranger  exclaims : 

"  Why,  this  is  the  World's  Soul ;  and  just  of  the  same  piece 
Is  every  flatterer's  sport." 

The  pitcher,  destined  to  receive  and  then  pour  forth  the 
heavenly  liquor,  must  be  of  rare  and  precious  materials,  finely 
wrought,  and  made  in  just  proportions. 

The  dew  or  manna  must  be  gathered  before  the  full  rising  of 
the  sun,  lest  it  should  be  melted  and  dissipated  by  too  great 

lSee  Anthroposophia  Theomagica,  "Magical  Writings  of  Thos.  Vaughan," 
edited  in  English  by  Arthur  E.  Waite,  p.  2(5-33  (Redway),  Kegau,  Paul,  Trubner 
&  Co.,  1688.  It  is  not  a  difficult  work,  as  the  alarming  title  might  lead  us  to 
suppose ;  on  the  contrary,  highly  interesting  with  a  view  to  the  present  sub- 
ject. 

2  See  Anima  Magica  Abscondita,  also  edited  by  A.  E.  Waite  —  in  the  same 
yol.  as  Anthroposophia.  Published  under  the  title  of  "The  Magical  Writings  of 
Thos.  Vaughan." 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  357 

heat.  The  revival  of  learning  was  indeed  the  rising  of  the  sun, 
the  dawn  of  a  new  day  to  the  world  lying  in  darkness;  yet  the 
dew  should  be  collected  quietly,  almost  secretly,  and  safely 
stored,  before  the  blaze  of  a  fiery  zeal  should  injure  and  perhaps 
destroy  it. 

The  five  rays,  with  their  five  pearls  (or  groups  of  pearls), 
typify  the  soul  of  the  world,  the  "  divine  intellectual  spirit, " 
"  awakened, »  "  uproused  »  by  the  sunrise.  This  soul  of  the 
world  has  been  with  the  spirits  that  are  in  prison  —  "  cabinned, 
cribbed,  confined,"  like  the  soul  of  Hamlet  or  of  the  poet  of  the 
Anthroposophia,  who  concludes  one  chapter  with  verses  in 
which  are  these  lines : 

"  My  sweetest  Jesus !  'twas  thy  voice :     '  If  I 
Be  lifted  up,  I'll  draw  all  to  the  sty.' 
Yet  I  am  here !    I'm  stifled  in  this  clay, 
Shut  up  from  Thee  and  the  fresh  east  of  day." 

The  ejaculation  in  the  third  line  suggests  a  further  allusion 
to  clay  in  the  hands  of  the  potter,  which  must  surely  have 
presented  itself  to  poetic  Bible-students  such  as  the  Bacon 
family  certainly  were.  They  must  have  thought  of  the  pot  of 
clay  as  an  image  of  human  life,  a  very  "compounded"  but  a 
most  brittle  and  perishable  thing. 

"  Or  ever  the  silver  cord  be  loosed,  or  the  golden  bowl  be  broken, 
or  the  pitcher  be  broken  at  the  fountain,  or  the  ivheel  broken  at  the 
cistern,  then  shall  the  dust  return  to  the  earth  as  it  tvas ;  and  the 
spirit  shall  return  unto  God  that  gave  it."  1 

The  clay  is  but  the  poor  earthy  material  into  which  all  the 
vital  spirits  of  nature  are  "  infused  and  mixed  up  with  the  clay, 
for  it  is  most  true  that  of  all  things  in  the  universe,  man  is  the 
most  composite. "  2 

Falstaff  is  made  to  use  almost  identical  words  where  he  speaks 
of  "  This  foolish  compounded  clay  —  man. "  3 

1  Ecclesiastes,  xii.  Bacon  was  very  partial  to  these  twelve  chapters  and 
brings  in  allusions  to  their  teaching  throughout  his  works  and  notes.  Compare 
his  essay  or  treatise  of  Youth  and  Age  with  As  You  Like  It,  ii.  7,  and  then  with 
Eceles.  xii.  3-5.  The  first  word,  Remember,  seems  to  be  a  pass- word  in  the  old 
Rosicrueian  books. 

2  Essay  of  Prometheus.  .  . 

3  2  Henry  IV.  i  2.  "  Men  are  but  gilded  loam  and  painted  clay."  Rich.  11. 1. 1. 


358  FRANCIS  BACON 

"  Vanity  of  vanities,  saith  the  Preacher;  all  is  vanity;  but,  he- 
cause  the  Preacher  was  wise,  he  still  taught  the  people  knowledge; 
yea,  he  gave  good  heed,  and  sought  out  and  set  in  order  many 
proverbs.  *  The  Preacher  sought  to  find  out  many  acceptable 
words,2  and  that  which  was  written  was  upright,  words  of 
truth.  The  words  of  the  wise  are  as  goads,3  and  as  nails  fast- 
ened by  the  Masters  of  Assemblies,  which  are  given  from  one 
shepherd.  And  further  by  these,  my  son,  be  admonished;  of 
making  many  books  there  is  no  end,  and  much  study  is  a  weari- 
ness of  the  flesh.  Let  us  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter. 
Fear  God  and  keep  His  commandmeuts,  for  fhis  is  the  whole 
duty  of  man.  For  God  shall  bring  every  work  into  judgment 
with  every  secret  thing,  whether  it  be  good  or  whether  it  be 
evil." 

Here  is  the  model  of  a  charge  from  a  "  Master  of  Assemblies" 
to  his  "  Sons,"  the  Sons  of  Science,  the  Brethren  in  love  and  re- 
ligious union.  In  their  youth  they  must  Remember  their  Creator, 
in  mature  years  labour  in  the  cause  of  truth,  till  the  time  comes 
when  the  frail  pitcher  is  broken,  even  in  the  act  of  drawing  fresh 
supplies  from  the  heavenly  fountain;  its  contents  or  its  empti- 
ness will  be  seen,  and  every  secret  thing  made  known  and  judged 
in  the  broad  light  of  day. 

This  digression  is  intended  to  illustrate  the  manner  in  which 
these  Baconian  ideas  are  linked  together  in  one  great  chain, 
each  symbol  or  image  merging  into  or  mixing  itself  up  with  an- 
other. 

To  return  once  more  to  the  pitcher  or  pot  —  Bacon's  special 
mark,  the  humble  vessels  which  his  friends  raised  to  honour. 

Who  is  so  dull  and  unimaginative  as  to  be  incapable  of  fitting 
together  the  scraps  of  erudition  here  disjointedly  scattered  he- 
fore  him?  Who  will  check  and  refuse  to  see  in  this  water-mark 
Bacon's  well-conceived  emblem  of  himself  and  his  disciples  as 

1  See  the  De  Aug.  viii.  ii.  in  which,  when  discoursing  of  The  Doctrine  Con- 
cerning Scattered  Occasions,  Bacon  extols  the  use  of  proverbs  like  the  aphorisms 
of  Solomon,  "  to  which  there  is  nothing  comparable,"  and  which  he  expounds 
and  comments  upon  through  twenty  octavo  pages. 

2  See  Bacon's  record  of  the  necessity  for  doing  this  (De  Avg.  vi.  i)  and  a 
few  of  his  immense  contributions  to  language  in  jottings  amongst  his  private 
notes  (Pronms,  116-159,  272-326,  1370-1439,  etc.) 

3  Quoted  in  the  Promus.  fol.  88,  239,  and  again  in  Advt.  of  L.  i.  and  tho 
Wisd-  of  the  Ancients,  xxviii.,  from  the  Vulgate  Eccl.  xii.  11, 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  359 

« 
mere  "  vases, "   "  receptacles  "  for  the  heavenly  manna,  the 
dew,  "  the  flowing  and  distillations  which  emanated  from  the 
Spirit  of  the  Waters  "  ? 

The  pot  has  never  the  appearance  of  being  made  of  earthen- 
ware, for  it  was  a  golden  pot  in  which  Aaron  preserved  the 
manna.  "  We  read  in  Genesis  that  God  made  man  out  of  the 
earth.  This  is  a  great  mystery.  For  it  was  not  the  common 
pot-clay,  but  another,  and  that  of  a  far  better  nature. "  1  "As 
the  potter  hath  his  clay,  or  the  limner  his  colours,  so  the  Spirit 
that  worketh  in  Nature,  in  the  outward  lineaments  or  symmetry 
of  that  which  he  forms,  proves  himself  nothing  but  a  divine, 
intellectual  spirit. " 2 

Those  who  would  aid  in  following  up  these  researches  into 
the  history  of  Bacon  and  his  Secret  Society  will  render  efficient 
service  if  in  the  course  of  their  reading  (in  books  more  particu- 
larly of  dates  between  1580  and  1680.)  they  will  give  attention 
to  the  paper-marks  of  the  volumes  which  they  study,  noting 
accurately  the  title,  date,  and  edition  of  the  book,  and  even  the 
number  of  the  page  on  which  marks  are  found.  Copies  or  trac- 
ings of  these  should  be  made  and  duly  registered.  Such  an 
examination,  undertaken  by  some  dozens  of  pairs  of  observant 
eyes,  would  be  extremely  useful  in  solving  doubtful  questions. 
For  many  points  are  still  very  doubtful,  and  probably  some  re- 
main altogether  undisclosed,  so  that  hitherto  only  these  few 
general  statements  can  be  considered  as  definitely  proved : 

1.  That  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  paper- 
marks  were  used  throughout  the  works  which  were  the  products 
of  the  "  Renaissance." 

2.  That  these  paper-marks  are  not  mere  manufacturers'  signs, 
but  that  they  have  a  mutual  relation  and  connection,  and  that 
they  were  and  are  means  of  conveying  secret  information  to  the 
members  of  some  widely-spread  society. 

3.  That  the  society  was  not  a  mere  trade-guild,  but  that  it 
was  moved  by  motives  of  religion,  and,  in  its  highest  branches 

X  Anthroposophia,  22.  2  Anima  Magica,  54. 


360  FRANCIS  BA CON 

at  least,  was  a  Christian  philosophical  society,  or  a  society  for 
promotiDg  Christian  knowledge. 

4.  That  the  subject-matter  of  the  books  does  not  necessarily 
affect  the  paper-marks. 

5.  That  the  three  marks,  the  double  candlesticks,  the  grapes, 
and  the  pitcher  or  pot,  are  notably  "  Baconian, "  the  pot 
especially  being  found  in  all  Bacon's  acknowledged  works,  and 
throughout  the  correspondence  of  Anthony  and  Francis, 
especially  when  their  correspondent  was  of  the  Reformed 
Church. 

6.  That,  where  any  one  pattern  is  varied  many  times  in  the 
same  book,  there  is  usually  no  other  mark  except  in  the  fly- 
leaves. 

7.  The  extraordinary  but  not  unaccountable  habit  of  tearing 
out  the  fly-leaves  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  valuable  books  of 
the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  often  makes  it  impos- 
sible to  declare  that  the  book  in  hand  possessed  no  other  mark 
besides  those  which  we  see. 

8.  The  fly-leaves  were  wont,  in  many  of  our  "  Baconian  " 
books,  to  be  very  numerous :  five  or  eight  are  common  numbers 
for  the  sheets.  They  were  probably  intended  for  the  making 
of  notes,  a  practice  which  Bacon  enjoins  and  so  highly  com- 
mends. In  old,  untouched  libraries  there  are  usually  some  books 
where  the  fly-leaves  have  been  thus  utilised.  Perhaps,  when 
filled  with  notes,  they  were  to  be  taken  out,  and  forwarded  to 
some  central  point  of  study,  either  to  an  individual  or  to  a  com- 
mittee, who  should  by  their  means  add  to  the  value  of  any  sub- 
sequent edition  or  "  collection  "  which  might  be  published.  It  is 
certain  that  fly-leaves  have  been  stolen  for  the  sake  of  the  old 
paper,  for  etching  or  for  forged  reprints ;  but  this  does  not  ac- 
count for  the  fact  that  certain  books,  when  sent,  without  any 
special  orders,  to  be  repaired  by  a  Freemason  binder,  have  re- 
turned with  this  large  number  of  fly-leaves  restored ;  in  many 
of  our  public  libraries  such  extra  leaves  in  books  rebound  have 
paper-marks. 

9.  In  Bacon's  acknowledged  works  the  changes  are  rung 
upon  the  three  paper-marks,  the  pot,  the  grapes,  and  the  can- 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  361 

dlesticks,  the  latter  being  apparently  the  rarest  of  the  three. 
Usually  one  or  two  of  these  patterns  are  combined  with  one 
extra  mark.  With  time  enough  and  help  to  examine  every 
edition  of  every  book  concerned  in  this  inquiry,  it  is  hardly  to 
be  doubted  that  a  real  scheme  could  be  drawn  up  to  demon- 
strate the  precise  method  of  the  use  of  paper-marks.  The  fol- 
lowing table  may  be  sufficient  to  illustrate  our  meaning.  The, 
"  moons  "  to  wbich  allusion  will  be  made  are  not  made,  like 
the  other  paper-marks,  by  wires.  They  give  the  idea  of  having 
been  produced  by  the  impression  of  a  thumb  on  the  soft  pulp 
in  tbe  process  of  paper-making.  These  moon-marks  are  of  too 
frequent  occurrence,  in  certain  books  and  during  a  certain 
period,  for  any  doubt  to  remain  as  to  their  being  the  result  of 
intention  and  not  of  accident  or  chance.  They  are,  therefore, 
included  amongst  the  extras  in  our  list.  The  chronological 
arrangement  enables  us  to  observe  several  particulars.  First, 
that  the  pots  seem  to  be  in  one  edition  at  least  of  every  work 
produced  by  Francis  or  Anthony  Bacon,  or  published  under 
their  auspices.  Two  handles  to  the  pot  seem  to  mean  that 
two  persons  helped  in  the  construction  of  the  book.  Next,  we 
notice  that,  in  republications,  compilations,  or  "  collections  "  of 
any  kind,  grapes  prevail,  and  that  the  candlesticks  only  appear 
when  the  volume  which  includes  them  is  to  be  considered  com- 
plete. Then,  as  to  dates.  The  Baconian  pots  have  been  found 
first  in  a  book  1579-80,  and  not  later  than  1680 — a  period  of 
one  hundred  years.  They,  like  the  rest  of  the  marks,  increase 
in  size  from  about  one  inch  to  seven  inches.  The  use  of  the 
Baconian  grapes  seems  to  have  begun  about  1600,  and  to  have 
continued  only  in  France  after  1680.  The  double  candlesticks 
appeared  later  still,  after  the  death  of  Francis  Bacon,  and  re- 
mained in  use  for  about  fifty  years.  The  three  marks  all  dis- 
appeared in  England  about  1680. 


362 


FRANCIS  BA  CON 


1579 
1590 

1596 


1598 
1603 
1603 

1605 
1609 
1609 

1611 
1611 
1616 
1618 

1622 
1631 
1633 
1634 

1638 
1639 
1640 
1640 
1645 
1646 


1647 
1648 

1648 
1651 
1651 
1652 
1655 

1655 

1658 
1664 

1668 
1669 
1669 

1669 
1671 


North's  Plutarke 
Book  of  Com.  Prayer 
The  Faerie  Queen'e 


Chapman's  Works 
North's  Plutarke 
Montaigne's  Essays. 

Ad, vt.  of  Learning 

Book  of  Com.  Prayer 

Observns.  on  Csesar's 
Commentaries. 

Bible 

Floiio's  Dictionary 

Ben  Jonson's  Works 

Selden's  History  of 
Tithes 

Shakespeare 

Love's  Labour's  Lost 

"Fulke's"  Bible 

Jeremy  Taylor's 
"  Holy  State" 

Bacon  Opera 

Quaries'  EmblemB 

De  Augmentis 

Ben  Jonson's  Works 

Comus  &.  other  poems 

"The  Art  of  Making- 
Devises,"  Ciphers, 
&c. 

FullerVHolyWarre" 

Hieroglyphics,  Sym- 
bols, Ciphers,  Ike. 

"Diouati"  Bible 

Sylva  Sylvaruin 

Comus,"  &c. 

Comus,  &.c. 

Comus,  he. 

Fuller's  Ch.  History 

Sylva  Sylvarum 
Shakespeare 

Paradise  Lost 
Paradise  Regained 
Sir  K.  Digby's  Trea- 
tises 
Cowley's  Works. 
Resuseitatio,  3d  edn. 

De  Augmentis 


Pot  (on  fly-leaves) 

Pots,  various 

Pots,   various,  some 

two-handled,  with 

lettersAB.FB.BI, 

R,  RC 
Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 
Pots,  various,   some 

two-handled 
Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 


Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 
Pots,   various,  some 
two-handled 

Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 

Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 

Pots,  various 


Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 

Pots,  various 
Pots  (enormous) 
Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 
Pots.various,  and  cut 

in  half. 
Pots,  various 

Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 

Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 

Pots,  various 
Pots,  various 
Pots,   various,    very 

large 
Pots,  various,    very 

large 


ORAPKS.      CANDLESTICKS. 


Grapes 
Grapes 


drapes 

Grapes 


Grapes 


Grapes 

Grapes 
Grapes 

Grapes 


Grapes 


Grapes 
Grapes 


Grapes 


Grapes 


Grapes 
Grapes 


Grapes 
Grapes 


Grapes 


Candlesticks 
Candlesticks 
Candlesticks 
Candlesticks 
Candlesticks 


Candlesticks 


Twisted  horns 
Crowns,  shields 

(Fly-leaves  gone) 
Twisted  horns 
Bugle 
Moons 

Shields 

Crowns 

Shields 

Shields 

Shields,  bugles 
Shields,  bugles 
Shields 
Shields 
Fool's  cap 


Shields 
Shields 


Shields 

Shields  U  double- 
headed  eagle 

Shields,  bugle 

Shields ,  hearts, 
crowns,  Sao. 

Shield 

Shield 

Crescent  &  R  C 
Fool's  cap 


7.  Not  only  is  the  nature  of  the  paper-mark  thus  varied  in 
each  book,  but  the  forms  of  each  figure  are  varied  to  a  surpris- 
ing extent.  No  two  volumes,  often  no  two  parts  of  the  same 
volume,  treatise,  poem,  or  play,  contain-  marks  which  are  iden- 
tical. For  instance,  in  Ben  Jonson,  1616,  there  are  at  least  fifteen 
different  forms  of  the  pot,  two  of  which  are  sometimes  in  one 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  363 

play.  In  Seidell's  History  of  Tithes,  1618,  the  variations  are  as 
frequent.  In  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  1621,  there  are 
at  least  thirty  half-pitchers,  no  two  of  which  seem  to  be  alike. 
Again,  we  have  not  succeeded  in  finding  any  form  of  mark  pre- 
cisely repeated  in  books  of  different  titles,  editions,  or  dates. 

In  the  writing-paper  of  the  Bacon  family  and  their  friends, 
there  is  almost  as  striking  a  variety  in  the  representation  of  the 
same  figure  or  pattern.  It  is  certain  that  these  marks  were  not 
of  the  same  kind  as  the  ornaments,  etc.,  on  letter-paper  of  the 
present  day,  in  which  crests,  monograms,  etc.,  are  adopted  by 
certain  individuals  and  retained  by  them  for  some  time  at  least. 
In  letters  in  Baconian  correspondence,  written  in  rapid  succes- 
sion by  the  same  person,  the  marks  are  found  different,  and  on 
the  other  hand,  different  persons  writing,  the  one  from  England 
and  the  other  from  abroad,  occasionally  used  paper  with  pre- 
cisely similar  marks.  It  would  seem  that,  in  such  cases,  paper 
had  been  furnished  to  these  correspondents  from  some  private 
mill. 

8.  There  are,  in  combination  with  some  designs,  or  apart  from 
them, "  bars"  on  which  appear  names,  sometimes  of  paper-makers, 
as  "  Ricard, "  "  Rapin, "  "  Conard, "  "  Nicolas,  "etc.  These  seem 
to  be  chiefly  in  the  foreign  paper,  as  nowadays  we  have  "  What- 
man, "  "  Joynson, "  etc. 1  But  often  these  bars  are  as  cabalistic 
as  the  rest  of  the  designs,  or  they  seem  to  contain  the  initials 
of  the  "  producer"  of  the  book,  not,  we  think,  of  its  true  author. 
The  pots  have  no  bars  in  connection  with  them;  perhaps  the 
letters  upon  them  render  further  additions  unnecessary.  Observe, 
in  the  plates  of  pots,  the  large  number  which  occur  inscribed 
A  B,  F  B,  B,  B  I,  R,  R  C,  C  R,  the  letters  being  sometimes  in- 
verted, sometimes  placed  sideways,  or  otherwise  disguised.  2 

1  The  practice  of  inserting  the  full  names  of  the  makers  is  said  to  have 
come  into  fashion  in  the  sixteenth  century.  See  The  Manufacture  of  Paper, 
C.  T.  Davis,  1886. 

2  We  would  draw  especial  attention  to  a  bar  taken  from  the  first  edition  of 
Ben  JonsorCs  Works.  At  the  first  glance  the  markings  on  this  bar  appear  to  be 
meaningless,  or  cabalistic,  but  if  the  reader  will  take  a  card  in  each  hand  and 
cover  up  or  screen  each  portion  by  turns,  he  may  agree  with  the  present  writer 
that  the  marks  resolve  themselves  into  a  name,  and  perhaps  a  double  repetition 
of  the  letters  R  C.   Thus,  to  the  left  extremity  C  followed  by  R  reversed.   Then 


364  FRANCIS  BACON 

9.  The  system  of  paper-marks  still  exists,  though  under  modi- 
fied conditions.  Books  are  now  printed  too  cheaply  to  admit  of 
the  old  use  of  "  water-marked  "  paper.  Where,  however,  these 
marks  are  absent,  we  find  a  series  of  other  marks,  less  beau- 
tiful, and  far  less  conspicuous,  hut  equally  significant  and  curi- 
ous, and  which,  in  due  season,  we  hope  to  explain  by  the  aid  of 
photography  and  the  microscope. 

On  the  other  hand,  "  deficiencies "  iu  this  department  of 
knowledge  are  unhappily  numerous.  Let  it  therefore  be  in- 
quired : 

1.  Which  were  the  very  earliest  paper-mills  in  England  ?  To 
whom  did  they  belong?  What  were  the  water-marks  on  the 
paper  produced  there? 

2.  Which  was  the  first  printed  book  for  which  the  paper  was 
made  in  England? 

3.  From  what  foreign  mills  did  our  English  printers  import 
paper? 

4.  At  what  date  did  the  papers  with  the  hand  and  the  pot  re- 
ceive the  distinctive  additions  which,  for  want  of  a  better  name, 
we  have  termed  Baconian  ? 

5.  In  what  books  may  we  see  the  very  latest  examples  of  the 
candlesticks,  the  grapes,  and  the  pot  in  the  paper? 

6.  When  and  why  was  the  use  of  paper-marks  in  printed 
books  discontinued?  Was  the  discontinuance  simultaneous 
and  universal?  Was  there  truly  a  discontinuance  of  the  system 
of  secret  marks,  or,  rather,  did  a  change  or  modification  take 
place,  in  order  to  adapt  these  secret  marks  to  the  exigencies  of 
modern  requirements  in  printing  and  book-making? 

7.  When  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  in  his  youth,  resided  for  three  or 
four  years  in  Holland,  did  he  visit  and  study  the  manufactories 
of  paper?  Does  any  record  show  him  mixed  up  in  any  business 
relations  with  paper  manufacturers? 

begins  the  name,  A,  of  which  the  right  side  forms  part  of  the  sloping  letter  N ; 
an  upright  with  cross-piece,  T;  the  same  upright,  connected  half  way  down 
with  a  curved  stroke,  H  ;  at  the  end  of  the  curved  stroke,  a  small  but  distinct 
0,  followed  by  an  N,  sloping  greatly  to  the  left,  and  from  which  proceeds,  to 
the  right,  a  smaller  Y  —  ANTHONY.  In  the  H  and  its  curved  line  there  is  an 
irregularity  suggestive  of  a  monogram  of  R  C.  But  these  are  only  suggestions; 
other  eyes  and  imaginations  may  interpret  them  differently. 


AND  HIS  SECHET  SOCIETY.  365 

8.  What  part  did  the  old  printers  and  publishers  play  in  the 
secret  society?  For  instance,  John  Norton  (Lady  Anne  Bacon's 
cousin)  and  the  Spottisworths  (both  families  in  which  these 
trades  have  in  an  eminent  degree  flourished  ever  since). 

9.  Did  the  "  Baconian  "  water-marks  remain  in  use  until 
circa  1G80,  —  in  fact,  for  just  one  hundred  years  from  the  time 
when  the  first  document  of  the  Rosicrucian  society  was  pub- 
lished? 

10.  Was  it  intended  that,  by  the  end  of  the  period  of  one 
hundred  years,  all  the  posthumous  works  of  Francis  Bacon, 
"  My  cabinet  and  presses  full  of  papers,"  should  have  been  pub- 
lished by  his  followers?  and  did  the  system  of  water-marks  in 
printed  books  cease  at  that  period? 

11.  Are  printers  and  paper-makers,  as  a  rule,  Freemasons? 
Do  they  mutually  co-operate  and  understand  each  other's 
marks? 

12.  If  not,  what  reasons  do  they  adduce  for  the  mystery 
which  is  still  cast  over  simple  matters  connected  with  their  use- 
ful and  beneficent  crafts,  and  for  the  unusual  difficulties  which 
are  met  with  in  obtaining  any  good  books  or  any  trustworthy 
information  upon  the  subjects  which  we  have  been  considering? 

13.  Is  there  any  period  at  which  modern  Freemasonry  and 
Rosicrucianism  propose  to  clear  up  and  reveal  these  apparently 
useless  and  obstructive  "  secrets  "  ? 

14.  Or,  what  is  supposed  to  be  the  advantage,  either  to  the 
public  or  to  individuals,  in  keeping  up  these  or  other  mystifica- 
tions-, historical  or  mechanical?  Once,  doubtless,  helpful  and 
protective,  guides  as  well  as  guardians,  they  now  seem  to  be 
mere  stumbling-blocks  in  the  way  of  knowledge. 

Further  on  we  shall  have  to  inquire,  who  are  they  who  have 
the  right  and  the  power  so  to  manipulate  the  printed  cata- 
logues of  our  public  libraries  as  to  enable  them  to  convey  hints 
to  the  initiated  of  books  specially  to  their  purpose;  and  to  re- 
press open  references  to  certain  books  or  documents  which 
would  tell  the  uninitiated  too  much  ?  For  the  present  we  merely 
throw  out  these  hints  to  encourage  observers  to  note  very  pre- 
cisely every  instance  in  which  such  aberrations  occur.    In  matters 


366  FH A  NCIS  BA  CON 

connected  with  these  subjects  they  are  not  infrequent,  and  the 
student  need  not  despair  of  getting  an  important  book  because 
it  is  not  in  the  printed  catalogue  of  a  great  library. 

.Perhaps  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  give  a  few  hints  to  observers 
unaccustomed  to  the  technical  matters  involved  in  making  a 
book.  Let  them  take  notice  that  in  folio  editions  the  paper- 
marks  are  to  be  found  about  the  centre  of  the  page  j  but  in  small 
quartos,  where  the  paper  is  folded  so  as  to  form  four  sheets,  in 
octavos,  where  another  fold  produced  eight  sheets,  and  in  duo- 
decimos, where  the  folds  are  again  multiplied,  the  paper-marks 
will  often  be  found  divided  into  two  or  four  parts.  Usually,  the 
sheet  having  been  bent  in  the  middle  where  the  paper-mark  is, 
the  halves  of  the  marks  will  be  seen  at  the  binding,  say,  half 
on  pages  1  and  2,  and  the  other  half  on  pages  7  and  8.  But  in 
smaller  books,  the  water-marks  are  still  more  divided,  and 
sometimes  appear  in  pieces  in  the  outer  margins.  The  eye  soon 
becomes  accustomed  to  distinguish  these  arrangements, 
although  the  division  of  the  design  makes  the  work  more 
troublesome. 

Even  in  the  large  and  undivided  marks,  the  letter-press  and 
engravings  often  obscure  the  design.  Many  specimens  must  be 
compared,  and  many  drawings  made,  before  the  exact  charac- 
ter of  the  mark  can  be  ascertained. 

This  is  the  excuse,  pleaded  beforehand,  for  any  errors  or  mis- 
conceptions in  the  drawings  which  accompany  this  book.  It  is 
also  the  cause  why  these  illustrations  have  been  taken  from 
such  a  limited  circle  of  books.  Those  in  our  own  library,  or 
belonging  to  friends,  can  be  traced  against  the  light  with  red 
ink,  and  then  carefully  retraced.  But  this  is  impossible  in 
books  belonging  to  public  libraries,  where  the  difficulty  of 
measuring  and  copying  is  much  increased  by  the  little  aid  which 
the  all-cheering  sun  deigns  to  bestow,  and  by  the  impractica- 
bility of  holding  up  large  folios  towards  his  veiled  face.  He 
seems  to  be  in  league  with  the  paper-makers  and  printers,  and 
the  electric  light  is  kinder  in  this  respect. 

For  the  present,  to  avoid  fruitless  controversy,  and  to  enclose 


AND  HTS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  367 

the  range  of  observation  within  a  manageable  area,  we  withhold 
any  notice  of  paper-marks  in  books  produced  by  "  authors  " 
living  only  after  Bacon's  time.  Yet  it  is  right  to  caution  ob- 
servers that  they  should  by  no  means  discontinue  their  notes 
and  researches  in  books  published,  even  for  the  first  time,  after 
1626. 

Startling  disclosures  are  made  by  collating  these  paper-marks, 
and  other  technical  particulars,  in  books  which,  from  internal 
evidence,  are  judged  to  have  been  written  or  aided  by  Francis 
or  Anthony  Bacon,  and  which,  by  these  external  and  demon- 
strable signs,  are  "  hall-marked  "  by  the  paper-maker  and  the 
printer.  To  any  one  sufficiently  possessed  by  the  spirit  of  in- 
quiry or  love  of  truth,  to  labour  after  it,  and  personally  to  test 
and  follow  up  the  statements  and  suggestions  made  above,  it 
will,  we  think,  be  difficult  to  resist  the  conclusions  to  which  we 
have  been  drawn.  They  will  perceive  that,  if  indeed  Anthony 
Bacon  was  not  (as  we  think)  a  considerable  author,  poet,  and 
playwright,  yet  that,  for  more  than  twenty-five  years,  he  ener- 
getically collaborated  with  the  beloved  younger  brother,  whom 
he  equalled  in  wit,  though  not  in  profound  learning ;  the  style  of 
writing  of  the  brothers,  twins  in  heart  and  soul,  being  in  these 
lighter  works  almost  indistinguishable. 

It  must  also,  we  think,  be  ere  long  made  manifest  that  the 
works  hitherto  attributed  to  Francis  Bacon  are  samples  only, 
tastes  of  his  quality;  giving,  as  they  were  intended  to  give,  ex- 
cellent hints  and  indications  of  the  manifold  works  of  all  kinds 
and  (as  Ben  Jonson  declared)  in  "  all  numbers, "  actually  written, 
dictated,  or  directed  by  him ;  constructed  and  published  by  his 
"  Method. " 

Which  of  Bacon's  works  is  in  the  true  sense  complete  ?  Per- 
fect in  its  kind  it  may  be  (as,  for  instance,  any  single  essay). 
But  can  any  of  these  works  be  considered  finished  and  exhaust- 
ive? Does  any  one  of  them  "  fill  up"  its  own  subject?  On  the 
contrary,  almost  all  are  in  some  sort  fragmentary;  ]  and,  for  our 

1  Perhaps  the  History  of  Henry  VII.  should  be  excepted.  Tet  even  this 
begins  as  though  it  were  the  end  or  concluding  portion  of  a  History  of  Hichard 
III.,  and  not  as  would  be  expected  in  a  separate  and  complete  history. 


368  FMANCIS  BACON 

own  part,  in  the  acknowledged,  works  of  Francis  Bacon  we  see 
but  a  collection  of  masterly  sketches — vast  maps  in  outline, 
magnificent  designs,  whose  every  detail  he  had  elsewhere  studied 
and  attempted  to  trace  out,  so  that  the  next  ages  should  have 
but  to  copy,  fill  in,  enlarge,  diminish,  colour,  or  elaborate. 
"  Will  you  make  this  man  a  monster,  with  powers  abnormal  and 
supernatural?"  The  question  has  been  asked  more  than  once, 
and  the  reply  is  as  before.  No  man  could  have  read,  imagined, 
cogitated,  and  devised  as  Francis  Bacon  did,  if  at  the  same  time 
he  had  to  conduct  the  mechanical  business  requisite  in  the  pro- 
duction of  great  works  on  a  vast  variety  of  subjects.  Though 
we  have  it  on  the  authority  of  Dr.  Sprat,  that  the  powers  of  mind 
of  Bacon  were  equal  to  those  of  twenty,  if  not  (as  some  seem  to 
have  said)  of  a  thousand  men ;  yet  neither  his  bodily  strength 
nor  length  of  days  would  have  sufficed  for  such  a  work.  He 
must  have  had  help  in  the  most  tedious  particulars,  and  the 
method  has  already  been  explained  by  which,  according  to  the 
present  view,  the  Freemasons  and  Rosicrucians  became  engines 
or  machines  for  the  execution  of  all  mechanical  work. 

And  for  a  monster  in  mind,  who  has  ever  matched  Francis 
Bacon?    Truly,  like  Caesar,  he 

"  Did  get  the  start  of  the  majestic  world, 
And  bear  the  palm  alone." 

Is  it  not  true  that  still 

"  He  doth  bestride  the  narrow  world 
Like  a  Colossus ;  and  that  petty  men 
"Walk  under  his  huge  legs,  and  peep  about 
To  find  themselves  dishonourable  graves  "  1 

A  monster  ?  —  Yes,  that  is  the  very  name  which  his  friend  Sir 
Tobie  Matthew  claims  for  him.  He  challenges  any  one  "  to  mus- 
ter out  of  any  age  four  men  who,  in  many  respects,  should  excel 
four  such  as  we  are  able  to  show  —  Cardinal  Wolsey,  Sir 
Thomas  More,  Sir  Philip  Sydney,  and  Sir  Francis  Bacon,  for 
they  were  all  a  kind  of  monsters  in  their  several  ways." 
After  extolling  the  first  three,  he  continues : 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY. 


369 


"  The  fourth  was  a  creature  of  incomparable  abilities  of  mind, 
of  sharp  and  catching  apprehension,  large  and  faithful  memory, 
plentiful  and  sprouting  invention,  deep  and  solid  judgment,  .  .  . 
a  man  so  rare  in  knowledge  of  so  many  several  kinds  indeed 
with  the  facility  of  expressing  it  in  so  elegant,  significant,  so 
abundant,  and  yet  so  choice  and  ravishing  a  way  of  words,  of 
metaphors,  and  allusions,  as  perhaps  the  world  has  not  seen 
since  it  was  a  world." 

So,  of  all  intellectual  monsters  who  had  appeared  until  the 
time'  of  Sir  Tobie  Matthew,  incomparably  the  greatest  was 
Francis  Bacon.  Sir  Tobie  was  well  aware  that  detraction  would 
not  suffer  his  eulogy  to  pass  unchallenged,  but  he  throws  down 
the  gauntlet  which  no  man  has  yet  ventured  to  pick  up: 

"  I  know,"  he  continues,  "  that  this  may  seem  a  great  hyper- 
bole and  strange  kind  of  riotous  excess  of  speech ;  but  the  best 
means  of  putting  me  to  shame  will  be  for  you  to  place  any  man 
of  yours  bv  this  of  mine.  And  in  the  meantime  even  this  little 
makes  a  shift  to  shew  that  the  genius  of  England  is  still  not 
onlv  eminent,  but  predominant,  for  the  assembling  great  variety 
of  those  rare  parts,  in  some  single  man,  which  may  be  incom- 
patible anyiohere  else. " 

Bacon's  works  are  sometimes  described  or  alluded  to  as  being 
of  so  stupendous  a  kind  that  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  his 
having  time,  even  had  he  the  ability  or  inclination,  for  other 
compositions.  But,  in  fact,  the  whole  of  his  written  composi- 
tions, excluding  letters  but  including  the  law  tracts  and 
charges,  would  fill  only  four  of  the  fourteen  volumes  which  ap- 
pear  on  our  shelves  as  Spedding's  Life,  Letters,  and  Works  of 
Bacon.  The  rest  consist  of  letters,  transactions,  variorum  edi- 
tions, and  comments  by  the  editors. 

Compare  with  this  the  voluminous  productions  of  some  of  his 
contemporaries.  Coke  "  wrote  thirty-one  volumes  with  his  own 
hand"  (yet he  was  a  busy  public  man  like  Bacon).  Richard 
Baxter  is  "  said  to  have  produced  "  145  distinct  works,  as  he 
himself  says,  "  in  the  crowd  of  other  employments."  Thomas 
Heywood,  the  actor,  is  "  said  to  have  written  "  220  or  240  plays, 
»  A  Life  of  Merlin,"  a  "  Life  of  Elizabeth,"  «  The  Lives  of  the 


24 


370  FRANCIS  BACON 

Nine  Worthies,  etc.,"  the  last  item  admitting  of  many  possibili- 
ties. 

Montaigne  "  feared  to  glut  the  world  with  his  works  "  (a  sur- 
prising statement  if  nothing  is  claimed  for  him  excepting  one 
volume  of  essays).  As  to  Jaspar  Barthius,  though  his  contem- 
poraries do  not  bestow  upon  him  any  particular  notice,  yet 
Bayle  tells  us  that  his  works  on  many  various  subjects  "  make 
so  prodigious  a  mass  that  one  has  difficulty  in  conceiving  how  a 
single  man  could  suffice  for  such  things. " 

When,  at  some  future  time,  we  are  able  to  discuss  at  leisure 
particulars  which  have  been  collected,  and  which  link  together 
the  friends,  correspondents,  and  colleagues  of  Francis  and  An- 
thony Bacon,  we  will  endeavour  to  satisfy  inquirers  as  to  the 
methods  of  these  and  other  "voluminous  writers"  of  the  six- 
teenth and  seventeenth  centuries.  For  the  present  let  it  bo 
noted  that  Francis  Bacon's  acknowledged  works  were  neither 
voluminous  nor  stupendous;  that,  on  the  contrary,  three  or  four 
modest  volumes  are  all  that  were  published  under  his  name. 
Other  authors,  who  are  ranked  amongst  the  giant  minds  of 
Bacon's  time  by  the  critics,  commentators,  and  biographers  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  are  not  so  much  as  named  by  their  pro- 
totypes of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries.  Neither  Sir 
Tobie  Matthew,  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  nor  Ben  Jonson  include  them 
in  their  lists  of  great  writers  or  thinkers. 

There  is  indeed  no  weight  or  value  in  the  argument  that 
Francis  Bacon  had  not  the  time,  even  if  he  had  the  ability,  to 
write  the  works  which  we  attribute  to  him;  he  had  time, 
knowledge,  and  genius  enough  for  it  all ;  nor  is  there  any  great 
difficulty  in  conceiving  the  method  by  which  he  achieved  his 
great  enterprise.  Neither  does  he  leave  it  to  our  imagination, 
but  explains  clearly  that  it  is  only  by  the  combination  of  many 
minds  to  one  general  end,  and  by  the  division  of  labour  in  par- 
ticulars, that  any  real  advance  can  be  made,  and  that  it  is  by 
examination  and  experiment,  not  by  talk  and  argument,  that 
the  work  can  be  accomplished. 

"  This  road  [of  practical  experience  and  demonstration]  has 
an  issue  in  the  open  ground  not  far  off;  the  other  has  no  issue 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  371 

at  all,  but  endless  entanglement.  .  .  .  Moreover,  I  think  that 
men  may  take  some  hope  from  my  own  example.  Ana  tnis  1 
say,  not  by  way  of  boasting,  but  because  it  i3  useful  to  say  it.  It 
there  be  any  that  despond,  let  them  look  at  me,  that,  being  ol 
all  men  of  my  time  the  most  busied  in  affairs  of  state,  and  a 
man  of  health  not  very  strong  (whereby  much  time  is  lost),  and 
in  this  course  altogether  a  pioneer,  .  .  .  have,  nevertheless,  Ir- 
resolutely entering  on  the  true  road,  and  submitting  my  mind 
to  things,  advanced  these  matters,  as  I  suppose,  some  little 
way  And  then  let  them  consider  what  may  be  expected  (atter 
the  way  has  been  thus  indicated)  from  men  abounding  in  leis- 
ure and  from  association  of  labours  in  successive  ages:  the 
rather  because  it  is  not  a  tvaif  over  which  only  one  man  can  pass 
at  a  time  (as  is  the  case  with  the  way  of  reasoning),  but  one  in 
ivkich  the  labours  and  industries  of  men,  especially  as  regards 
the  collecting  of  experience,  may  with  the  best  effect  be  distributed, 
and  then  combined.  For  then  only  ivill  men  begin  to  know  their 
strength,  when,  instead  of  great  numbers  doing  all  the  same 
things,  one  shall  take  charge  of  one  thing,  and  another  of 
another."1 

Observe  that  he  puts  distribution  first.  This  assumes  a  dis- 
tributor, a  head  or  chief  moving  spirit,  who  shall  apportion  to 
his  subordinates  the  work  which  he  considers  them  to  be  capa- 
ble of  performing.  Moreover,  look  at  the  phrase  in  brackets. 
Here  Bacon  hints  that  he  did  the  reasoning  part  of  the  work 
himself.  That  could  be  deputed  to  none  other.  In  days 
when  language  was  halt  and  lame,  when  men's  powers  of  ob- 
servation were  dimmed,  and  all  other  faculties  for  resolving 
high  and  deep  thoughts  into  beautiful  language  were  ranked 
among  the  deficients,  how  was  it  possible  that  ordinary  men 
combine  in  their  writings  or  their  speeches  the  most  extensive 
learning,  the  finest  reasoning,  and  the  clearest,  most  cogent,  or 
charming  method  of  delivery  ? 

Bacon  warns  2  "  those  who  take  upon  them  to  lay  clown  the 
law  as  to  the  bounds  of  knowledge  —  as  to  what  is  possible  and 
what  impossible  to  know  or  achieve,"  that  they  "  have  done 
great  injury.     For,  whether  they  have  spoken  in  simple  assur- 

ljKw.  Org.  i.  cxiii.  2  -Vo'--  0r9-  Pref- 


372  FR  A  NCIS  BA  CON 

ance  or  professional  affectation,  they  Lave  been  equally  suc- 
sessful  in  quenching  and  stopping  inquiry,  and  have  doue  more 
harm  by  stopping  other  men's  efforts  than  good  by  their  own. " 
Was  there  ever  a  time  when  these  words  were  truer  than  now, 
and  in  relation  to  his  own  works,  and  the  investigations  con- 
nected with  them  ?  Can  we  too  strongly  grapple  to  our  hearts 
his  advice  that  we  should  "  take  up,  with  better  judgment,  a 
position  between  these  two  extremes — between  the  presumption 
of  pronouncing  on  everything  and  the  despair  of  comprehending 
anything;  that,  though  frequently  and  bitterly  complaining  of 
the  difficulty  of  inquiry  and  the  obscurity  of  things,  yet,  none 
the  less,  we  should  follow  up  our  own  object,,  thinking  that  this 
very  question — whether  or  no  anything  can  be  known — is  to 
be  settled,  not  by  arguing,  but  by  trying1'!  He  "draws  an 
argument  of  hope  from  this,  that  some  of  the  inventions  already 
known  are  such  as,  before  they  were  discovered,  could  hardly 
have  entered  any  man's  head  to  think  of;  for,  in  conjecturing 
ivhat  may  be,  men  set  before  them  the  example  of  what  has  been, 
and  divine  of  the  New,  with  imagination  preoccupied  and  col- 
oured by  the  Old." 

Having  illustrated  his  meaning  by  examples  from  the  inven- 
tions of  gunpowder,  silk,  and  the  magnet,  he  continues:  "  We 
have  discoveries  to  show  of  another  kind,  which  prove  that 
noble  inventions  may  be  lying  at  our  very  feet,  and  yet  man- 
kind may  step  over  without  seeing  them.  For,  however  the 
discovery  of  gunpowder,  of  silk,  of  the  magnet,  of  sugar,  of 
paper  "  (which,  observe,  he  did  not  mention  before)  u  may  seem 
to  depend  on  certain  properties  of  things  themselves  and 
nature,  there  is,  at  any  rate,  nothing  in  the  art  of  printing 
which  is  not  plain  and  obvious. l  .  .  .  This  most  beautiful  dis- 
covery, which  is  of  so  much  service  in  the  propagation  of  knowl- 
edge," he  attributes  to  the  observation  of  simple  facts,  arguing 
that  such  is  the  infelicity  and  unhappy  disposition  of  the  human 
mind  in  this  course  of  discovery  or  invention  that  it  first  dis- 

1  Though  so  plain  and  obvious,  tho  art  of  printing  is  amongst  the  subjects, 
enumerated  by  Bacon,  which  required,  and  which  still  requires,  a  separate  "  His- 
tory,"   See  the  Catalogue  of  Histories,  Ko.  110,  at  the  end  of  the  Paiasceve. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  373 

trusts  and  then  despises  itself;  first,  will  not  believe  that  any 
such  thing  can  be  found  out,  and,  when  it  is  found  out,  cannot 
understand  how  the  world  should  have  missed  it  so  long. "  Far 
from  being  discouraged,  be  repeats  that  he  takes  all  this  as  a 
ground  for  hope,  and  there  is  yet  another.  "  Let  men  but  think 
of  their  infinite  expenditure  of  understanding,  time,  and  means, 
or  matters  of  pursuit  of  much  less  value,  whereof,  if  but  a  small 
part  were  directed  to  sound  and  solid  studies,  there  is  no  diffi- 
culty that  might  not  be  overcome." 

Does  any  one  suggest  that  the  interpretations  of  the  paper- 
marks  are  "  arbitrary  "  or  "  speculative,"  the  attempted  expla- 
nations of  doubtful  matters  erroneous  or  incomplete  ?  Let  him 
turn  to  the  beginning  of  this  book  and  see  again  that  these 
things  are  offered,  not  as  perfect  fruits,  but  as  some  of  the  best 
which  we  have  been  able  to  reach  or  pick  up.  They  are,  for 
the  most  part,  a  humble  "collection,"  such  as  Francis  Bacon 
instructed  his  disciples  to  make  for  examination  and  considera- 
tion; though  some  are  the  products  of  real  research  and  exami- 
nation, and  of  a  simple  but  effective  process  of  "  putting  two 
and  two  together. " 

Should  more  accurate  information  be  forthcoming,  better  sug- 
gestions be  offered,  we  shall  heartily  greet  them  from  whatever 
quarter  they  may  come,  rejoicing  if  we  may  in  any  degree  have 
cleared  the  way  for  the  advance  of  truth,  or  inspired  others  to 
better  work  than  we  are  capable  of  doing.  All  that  is  asked, 
and  this  earnestly,  is  that  these  things  may  be  fairly  discussed, 
pressed  home,  and  thoroughly  looked  into.  It  is  in  vain  "  to 
wave  them  courteously  aside  "  in  the  prescribed  Freemason 
fashion,  or  to  thrust  them  churlishly  out  of  sight  as  trivialities, 
matters  of  course,  mere  curiosities  for  the  book-worm  or  the 
"  crank. " 

It  is  surely  wrong  as  well  as  vain  to  attempt  to  quench  the 
true  spirit  of  inquiry  by  endeavouring  to  make  the  inquirer  ap- 
pear contemptible,  and  his  researches  childish  and  silly.  Such 
devices  must  in  the  end  return  upon  the  heads  of  those  who 
practice  them,  and,  although  they  may  delay  and  harass  the 
advance  of  knowledge,  they  cannot  stop  it;  for  "nothing  is 


374  FRANCIS  BACON. 

subtle  when  it  be  conceived, "  and  we  know  now  that,  though 
we  have  not,  as  Bacon  says,  "  found  an  issue  into  open  ground, " 
yet  we  have  got  out  of  the  "  entanglement, "  and  see  daylight. 

The  questions  asked,  and  the  problems  propounded,  are 
neither  trivial  nor  absurd,  nor  matter  for  pedantic  dogmatism 
and  argumentative  controversy.  Rather  they  are  questions  to 
be  weighed  and  considered  —  and  more.  If  it  be  true  that 
"cogitation  resides  not  in  the  man  who  does  not  think,"  so, 
surely,  it  resides  but  as  smoke  and  fumes  in  the  man  who  does 
not  examine. 

11  Orpheus  was  torn  to  pieces  by  the  Furies,  and  the  River 
Helicon,  in  sorrow,  hid  its  waters  underground,  and  rose  again 
in  other  places. "  So  with  the  great  religious,  literary,  aud  sci- 
entific society  which  Francis  Bacon  did  so  much  to  glorify  and 
render  permanent.  It  hid  its  waters  in  England  during  the 
time  of  the  civil  wars  and  their  attendant  miseries.  But  those 
waters  rose  again  with  renewed  freshness.  Can  we  not  trace 
them  bubbling  up  in  France,  Spain,  and  Italy,  but  still  more  in 
Germany  and  Holland,  which  seem  for  a  while  to  have  been 
their  largest  reservoir  ?  The  Rosicross  Brethren  never  ceased 
their  beneficent  efforts  in  England,  but  they  worked  like  the 
"  old  mole,"  underground,  and  in  silence.  Bacon  and  his  won- 
derful work  are  better  known  and  understood  in  Germany  than 
in  England.  "His  fame,"  says  Dr.  Rawley,  "is  greater,  and 
sounds  louder  in  foreign  parts  abroad,  than  at  home  in  his  own 
nation,  thereby  verifying  that  divine  sentence,  '  A  prophet  is  not 
without  honour,  save  in  his  oivn  country  and  in  his  own  house.'  " 
He  concludes  the  short  life  of  his  beloved  master  with  these 
words:  "Howsoever  his  body  was  mortal,  yet  no  doubt  his 
memory  and  works  will  live,  and  will  in  all  probability  last  as 
long  as  the  world  lasteth." 


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LIST  OF  PAPER-MARKS. 


Plate  I. 

1.  Sphere,  surmounted  by  star  or  crosses.    Account  books, 
Hague.    British  Museum  collection.     1301. 

2,  3.  Sphere,  surmounted  by  star  or  crosses.     Account  books, 
Hague.    British  Museum  collection.    1356,  1430 
Another,  5£  inches  high,  slightly  different.   Cotton  MSS. 
Nero  127. 
4.  Sphere,  cross,  scarabeus.    Jansen  (in  Sotheby).    1315. 

5,  6.  Sphere,  cross,  scarabeus,  one  with  water  line  =  Holy 
Spirit.    Jansen  (in  Sotheby).    1360. 

7-11  Sphere,  with  triangle  =  the  Trinity ;  ellipse  =  Holy 
Spirit.  The  figure  4,  sacred  number  in  "  Perfect 
Masonry, "  meaning  the  universe,  four  elements,  four 
winds,  four  seasons,  four  dimensions,  as  generally  con- 
ceived, length,  breadth,  depth,  height.  In  9a  is  a 
figure  4,  the  Egyptian  hierogram  =  Greek  alpha  and 
omega.  The  T,  which  frequently  appears  in  these 
plates,  signifies  light.  The  double  tan,  a  very  ancient 
symbol  of  the  sacred  sanctuary  of  light  and  beauty, 
resembles  H.  Two  I's,  with  a  cross  between,  as  9b, 
conveys  the  same  idea  as  at  fig.  10.  •  A  cross  in  a 
sphere  is  the  Druidical  silver  wheel,  Arianrod  —  em- 
blem of  the  Bi-une  God,  the  alpha  and  omega  of  the 
Revelations.  Chiefly  from  the  collection,  British  Mu- 
seum, 318c,  vol.  vii.  No.  11  is  five  inches  long.  Circa 
1400. 
12.  D,  a  mystic  word  expressive  of  the  power  of  expanding, 
spreading,  unfolding,  laying  open.*     Dl  was  a  term 

1  Celtic  Researches,  p.  446,  Davies,  quoted  B.  of  God,  ii.  441. 

403 


404  FBA  NCIS  BA  CON 

for  the  Deity,  from  which  we  have  Day  (Dai),  the 
Disposer,  the  Distributor.  We  ask  God  to  "  give  us 
each  day  our  daily  bread."  Biblia  Pauperum; 
Sotheby's  Principia;  Cotton,  Nero  vi.  218,  230.    1590. 

13,  14.  Spanish  letters. 

15-17.  The  three  mounts — probably  Calvary  or  Golgotha, 
Moriah,  and  Sinai,  to  which  Masonic  traditions  are 
attached.  At  Golgotha  Adam  was  buried,  wbo  caused 
the  ruin  of  mankind.  Here  the  Saviour  suffered,  who 
came  to  redeem  mankind.  Here,  too,  Enoch  is  said  to 
have  constructed  his  nine-arched  vault,  and  concealed 
from  men  the  ineffable  name  of  God.  It  is  said  that 
the  Masons  discovered  this  vault  and  brought  it  to 
Solomon.  Mount  Moriah  was  the  seat  of  Solomon's 
Temple,  and  a  story  too  long  for  insertion  relates  how 
this  mount  came  to  be  consecrated  to  brotherly  love.1 
Mount  Sinai  is  said  to  be  referred  to  in  the  twenty- 
third  and  twenty-fourth  degrees  of  the  (Prince  of  the 
Tabernacle)  Scottish  Ancient  and  Accepted  Rite. 
But  Scottish  Masonry  is  not  traceable  to  a  date  earlier 
than  1758,  and  then  only  in  Paris.  Perhaps  it  then 
adopted  the  modern  name  of  "  Free  Mason. "  British 
Museum,  318c,  vol.  vii. 
18  Five  mounts  (or  hills  of  knowledge?).  British  Mu- 
seum, 318c  vii. 

19.  Some  of  many  varieties  of  keys.    Biblia  Pauperum 

20.  Anvil.    True  size,  3£  inches,  many  patterns.    Haarlem 

account  book.    1416-1421. 

21.  Anvil.     German  MS.    Fifteenth  century. 

22.  Anvil  cross.     Double  tau.    Cotton  MSS.  Nero  vi.  163. 

1603. 

23.  Flaming  sun.    Cotton  MSS.  Caligula  E  302.    1598. 

24.  St.  Katherine's  wheel,  or  disguised  sun.    Ars  Moriendi 

—  Hibbert. 

25.  Scales.    Biblia  Pauperum. 

1  See  Royal  Masonic  Cgclopedia  —  Moriah. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  405 

26.  Scales.     Many  patterns,  some   within  a  circle.     Brit- 

ish Museum,  318c.     Circa  1400. 

27.  Scales.     British  Museum,  318c. 

28,  29.  Anchors.  Eleven  varieties  in  account  books,  etc.  — 
Holland.  British  Museum,  318c.  1416-1463.  See, 
also,  Nos.  21,  22,  Plate  II.  Some  have  roses,  fleur- 
de-lis,  etc. 

30.  Serpent,  with  its  tail  in  its  mouth  — emblem  of  eter- 

nity —34.  inches  diameter.    British  Museum,  15c  ii. 

31.  Five-pointed  star  in  circle.     Five  is  a  mystic  number, 

meaning  the  soul  of  the  world.  A  star,  the  emblem  of 
a  heavenly  messenger,  or  teacher.  The  circle  ==  the 
world. 

32.  The  ship  or  ark  of  the  church.    Cotton  MSS.  Nero  vi. 

108.     1529.     British  Museum,  318c  vii.     1400. 

Plate  II. 

1-3.  Unicorns.  Symbol  of  the  church.  One  marked  as  if 
for  cipher.  There  are  four  other  varieties,  1430,  and 
more  1460— all  German.  Ars  Moriendi.  1440.  Also  in 
Apocalypse,  and  in  the  Speculum,  first  edition,  1430- 
1465. 

4,  5.  Unicorns.  Drayton's  Poems,  three  patterns.  Brit.  Mus., 
11,573.     (Sotheby.)     1620. 

6.  Talbot  or  hound,  symbol  of  hunting  or  experience.    The 

Oxford  Book  St.  Jerome.  (Sotheby.)  "  Printed  date," 
1468. 

7.  Talbot,  from  a  Dutch  Bible,  copy  of  the  Aretin.    The 

paper  of  the  Bodleian  copy  of  the  Aretin,  "  dated  " 
Oxford,  1479,  exhibits  no  fewer  than  twenty- two  dif- 
ferent paper-marks,  nearly  all  of  which  occur  in  the 
Dutch  Bible  of  1477.  Brit.  Mus.,  318c.  1477. 
8  A  dog-headed  figure  merging  into  a  horn  or  spire. 
Anthony  Bacon's  correspondence.  Tennison  MSS., 
Lambeth  Palace. 
9-11.  Bulls'  heads.    Brit.  Mus.,  318c.     Circa  1470. 


406  FRANCIS  BACON 

12.  Bull's  head.     The  original  is  seven  inches  high.    Ars 

Moriendi. 
13-20.  Bulls'  heads.     No.  20  is  seven  inches  long.     Brit.  Mus., 

318c.    1100. 
21,  22.  Anchors.     See  Plate  I.    Brit.  Mus.,  318c. 
22-2G.  Letters  G-,  M,  P,  Y.    See  Sotheby's  Principia  Xylograph- 

ica,  xi.,  leaf  8,  chap.  25.     In  the  "  Barclay  "  copy  of  the 

Apocalypse,  the  I  H  S  are  elaborately  introduced  in 
'    the  style  of  the  early  English  letters,  and  with  crosses 

and  flourishes.    MSS.  and  the  Apocalypse,  Spenser 

copy.     1440, 1460. 

Plate  III. 

1.  Open  hand.     Archives  Haarlem,  British  Museum,  318c. 

1432. 

2.  Open  hand.     Letter  written  to  the  Archbishop  of  Bath. 

Archives  Haarlem,  British  Museum,  318c.     1433. 
3-5.  Open  hand,  with  heart.     Cotton  MSS.  Caligula  E  vii. 
205.    1573. 

6.  Open  hand,  with  3.    From  Rome.    Cotton  MSS.  Caligula 

E,  vii.  205. .  1521. 

7.  Open  hand,  with  cross.      Chapman's  Works,  British 

Museum,  C  34c  11.    1598. 

8.  Hand,  with  key.    Archives  Haarlem.    1427-8. 

9.  Hand,  with  bunch  of  grapes. 

10.  Hand,  with  star.     Hatton  Finch  MSS.     Dateless. 
11,  12.  Hand,  with  star.    Cotton  MSS.  British  Museum,  Nero 
vi.  35.    Dateless. 

13.  Hand,  with  letter,  signed  A.  Powlet.      Cotton  MSS. 

Caligula  E  vii.  205.    1577. 

14.  Hand,  horn  or  crescent  and  trefoil,  and  A  B,  in  ped- 

igrees of  the  Bacon  family.  Harleian  MSS.  1393,  fol.  85. 

15.  Hand,  with  crescent  in  palm.     Shepherd's  Garland — 

Drayton.    British  Museum,  C  30e  21.     1593. 

16.  Hand,  with  3.    No  star.     Undated  document,  foreign. 

Hatton  Finch  MSS.    1393. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  407 

17, 18.  Bugle.    Account  book,  Hague,  and  letter  to  the  Bishop 
of  Durham.    British  Museum,  318c.    1421. 

19.  Bugle  (in  heart,  trefoil).    Paradise  Lost;  Andrew  Mar- 

vel's Verses.    1668. 

20.  Bugle  in  shield.    Letter  of  Francis  Allen,  or  Alleyne, 

to  Anthony  Bacon.     Tennison  MSS.,  Lambeth.    1592- 
1641. 

21.  Bugle  in  mirror,  hearts,  trefoil,  etc.    Bacon's  History  of 

Henry  VII. 

22.  Bugle  on  shield,  imperfect;  and  a  bar  on  which  is  PAN. 

Quarles'  Emblems.    1639. 

23.  Another.    Paradise  Lost.    1668. 

24.  Another.    A    Learned    Discourse   of  Justification  by 

Faith  —  Richard  Hooker,  D.  D.    1631. 

25.  Bugle  on  shield  made  by  olive  wreath  and  crown,  horns, 

trefoil.  Observe  the  S  S,  and  that  the  same  shield  is 
a  pot  in  disguise.  From  Bacon's  History  Natural  and 
Experimental,  title  page,  and  History  of  Life  and 
Death,  preface.  1658. 
26-30.  Specimens  of  innumerable  fleur-de-lis,  some  2£  inches 
high,  scattered  about  in  the  above  works  and  MSS. 

Plate  IV. 

1.  Horns  of  a  bull.     MSS.  Frankfort.     British  Museum, 

318c.    1470. 

2.  Horns  of  a  bull.    Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy; 

unique    copy,  presented   by  Burton  to  the  Nation. 
British  Museum,  C  45c  30.     1621. 
3-5.  Horns  of  a  bull.    Moliere's  Works.     1682. 

6.  Horns  of  a   bull,   or    cornucopeia,    crown    indistinct. 

Cotton,  Nero  vi.  132.    1632.    Another  in  Shakespeare, 
1632,  and  Cotton,  Nero  vi.  48. 

7.  Horns  of  a  bull.    Cotton,  Nero  vi.  368. 

8.  Horn  in  shield,  etc.     Bullock  pedigree.     Harl.   1393, 

fol.  96. 
10-12.  Fool's  cap  and  fragments.    Quarles'  Emblems.    Dyce 
&  Forster  Library,  S.  Kensington  Museum.    1676. 


408  FEANC1S  BACON 

13.  Fool's  cap.    Bagford  collection,  fol.  29. 

14.  Moor's  head,  with  bandage  pushed  up  from  the  eyes. 

(An  allusion  to  the  efforts  being  made  to  convert  the 
Mahommedans  ? )     Circa  1420. 

15.  Twisted  horns. 

16.  Twisted  horns.    Advancement  of  Learning.    1605. 

17.  Triangle,  hearts.     Harl.  MSS.,  1393,  88. 

18.  Shield.   Account  book,  Zuid,  Holland.    British  Museum, 

318c.     1469-1470. 

19.  Shield.    Document,  Frankfort    on    the    Main.     British 

Museum,  318c.    1470. 
20,  21.  Shield,  other  specimens.     Dutch.     1460. 
22, 23.  Shields.     Apocalypse,    Haarlem.     Early  15th  century. 
24.  Shield,  heart-shaped.    Letter,  H.  Maynard  to  Anthony 

Bacon.     Tennison  MSS.,  Lambeth.     1592. 
25, 26.  Shield,  heart-shaped.    Poems  of  Michael  Drayton.    1619. 

27.  Shield,  heart-shaped.    Letters  of  Sir  Francis  Bacon. 

Copies.     Hatton  Finch  Collection. 

28.  Shield,  heart-shaped.     North's  Plutarke.    1595. 

29.  Shield.     Letter  from  Theodore  Beza  to  Anthony  Bacon. 

Tennison  MSS.,  Lambeth.    1593. 

30.  Shield,  heart-shaped.    Letter  unsigned.     Cotton  MSS. 

Nero,  229.    1590. 
31,34.  Shield,    heart-shaped,    with    R    C.     Advancement   of 
Learning.    1640. 

32.  Shield,  heart-shaped.  Document.    Cotton,  Nero  vi.  180. 

33.  Shield,  heart-shaped.     Be  Augmentis.     Holland.     1652. 

Plate  V. 

1.  Shield,  with  Greek  omega,  and  eight  rays  within.    Cot- 

ton MSS.  Nero  vi.  62.    Dateless. 

2.  Shield,  with  B,  and  the  name  NICOLAS.    Cotton  MSS. 

372.    Dateless. 

3.  Shield,  with  C  R.    Advancement  of  Learning.      1610. 

4.  Shield,  with  B  (almost  like  No.  2).    Harl.  MSS.  1393, 

fol.  118. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  409 

5,  6.  Shield  (note  horns  and  eye).     From  the   Comedy  of 
Errors,  Shakespeare.     1032. 

7.  Shield  (note  hull  face).     Shakespeare.    1032. 

8.  Shield  (note  hull  face).     The  Works  of  Joseph  Mede. 

1077. 

9.  Shield  (note  hull  face).    Modern  mark,  in  L.  Van  Gel- 

der's  paper.     1890. 

10.  Mock  shield,   lions.     George    Herbert— The    Temple. 

1033. 

11.  History  of  Life  and  Death.    1038. 

12.  Advancement  of  Learning.    1040. 

14.  Fleur-de-lis.     Coriolanus— Shakespeare.    1032. 

15.  Fleur-de-lis  and  crown.   Apocalypse,   Haarlem.   Early 

fifteenth  century.  Large  oval  shields,  lions,  harp, 
fleur-de-lis,  Harl.  Bagford's  Collection,  5892,  fol.  5 ; 
other  patterns,  fols.  80,  90, 105, 122;  others,  with  lions 
rampant,  one  five  inches  high,  Bagford,  5890,  0. 
17, 18.  Bar.  IRC.  Cynthia's  Bevels— Ben  Jonson.  (Per- 
haps Jonson  Rosy  Cross? ) 

Plate  VI. 

1.  Shield,  chains,  cabalistic  marks.    Works  of  J.  Mede. 

1052. 

2.  Shield,  chains.  The  Rule  of  Conscience— Jeremy  Taylor. 

1071. 

3.  Shield,  chains.    Theophrastus  Paracelsus  —  Opera  Om- 

nia.  Geneva.    1058. 

Shield,  chains  and  cross.    Companion  to  the  Temple  —  J. 
Comber,  D.  D.    1084. 
4-9.  Mock  shield  and  fleur-de-lis.    "  Diodati"    Bible  and 
Commentary.    1048. 

10.  Bar.  Shakespeare  folio— CtywbeZme,  last  page.   CIRC. 

(Jonson  Rosy  Cross? )    1023. 

11.  Bar.    Ben  Jonson's  Works— title-page  and  catalogue. 

1040.     (Anthony?    This   bar    surmounted  by   large 
bunch  of  grapes.) 


410  FRA  NCIS  BA  CON 

12, 13.  Fleur-de-lis  and  pearls.     Vestal  Virgin  (epil.) — Sir  R. 

Howard.     Circa  1450-1600. 
14,  15.  Spires  rising  from  bulls'  heads.     Foreign  paper. 
10.  Fleur-de-lis.    Shakespeare — Cymbeline.    1632. 
17,18.  Fleur-de-lis.    The  Merchant's  Book  of  Commerce  —  Thos. 
Home  Cornhill.    1700. 

Plate  VII. 
1-4.  Crowns.    Shakespeare,  Works.    Brit.  Mus.  copy.    1623. 
5-9.  Crowns.    Shakespeare,  Works.    Kensing.  Mus.  Forster 
copy.     1623. 

10.  Crowns.    Philomathes  —  Pleasure  with  Profit.    1594. 

11.  Crowns.    Harl.  Bagford  Collection,  5892,  1. 

12.  Crowns,  with  rose  in  pentagon.  Hatton  Finch  MSS.  304. 

13.  Crowns,     diamond.       MS.     Quintilian.      Brit.     Mus. 

4829  iv. 

14.  Crowns.     Themata  Varia.    Hatton  Finch  MSS.  304. 

15.  Crowns.    MS. 

16,  18.  Crowns.     Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  History  of  the   World. 
Several  patterns.    1614. 

19.  Crowns.     North's  Plutarke.      Brit.  Mus.  10,605,  i.  2. 

1603. 

20.  Truth  seated  in  triple  ellipse,  five  pearls,  diamond,  tre- 

foil, water,  cross,  crown.  Joynson's  foolscap  paper. 
1890.  Another,  one-tenth  of  an  inch  smaller,  details 
different,  Toogood's  paper.  Another  in  fly-leaf  to 
book  has  Time  as  an  old  man  instead  of  Truth. 

Plate  VIII. 

1.  Tower.    Nuremberg  Chronicle.    Jo.  Ames'  collection, 

Bodleian  library. 

2.  Castle-like  candlesticks.    A.  Powlett  —  French  docu- 

ment.   Cotton  MSS.  73,  92. 
3,  4.  Pillars  or  candlesticks,  drawn    in    Fenn's  collection, 
pp.  8,  21. 
5.  Double  candlesticks,  with  grapes,  etc.    Note  the  B. 
Douai  Testament.    1600. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  411 

G.  Single  candlesticks.  Observations  on  Cessans  Com- 
mentaries —  Clement  Edmundes.     1609. 

7.  Double  candlestick  in  Visitation  of  Wiltshire.  Pedi- 
grees signed  by  Wra.  Camden  (Clarenciens).  Harl. 
MSS.  1111.  This  water-mark  follows  for  five  pages 
the  Bacon  pedigree,  beginning  at  fol.  38.  Again  they 
occur  ten  times  in  a  pedigree  of  the  Penryddokes. 
The  widow  of  John  Penryddoke  married  John  Cooke, 
kinsman  of  Lady  Anne  Bacon. 

8.  Double  candlesticks.  Lectures  on  St.  John, "  preached  " 
by  Arthur  Hilderson.     1028. 

Double  candlesticks.   Quarles'  Feast  for  Wormes.   1031 

Double  candlesticks.  Marlowe's  Jew  of  Malta.  British 
Museum,  644c  70.     1033. 

Double  candlestick.  Milton's  Comus.  (Several  pat- 
terns.)    1031. 

Double  candlesticks.  Quarles'  Emblems.  (Sixteen  pat- 
terns.)    1035—1034. 

Double  candlesticks.  A  Review  of  the  Councell  of  Trent 
—  Anon.     (Five  patterns.)     1038. 

Double  candlesticks.     Be  Augment  is.     1038. 

Plate  IX. 

15.  Double  candlesticks.  History  of  Life  and  Death.    1038. 

10.  Double  candlesticks.  Advancement  of  Learning.     1040. 

17,  17a.  Double  candlesticks.  Ben  Jonson's  Poetaster.     1640. 

18, 19.  Double  candlesticks.  History  of  Henry  VII.    1041. 

20.  Double  candlesticks.  Sir  Kenelm  Digby's  Treatises. 

21.  The  Art  of  Making  Devises,  etc.  —  Anon.  Various. 
Very  large  and  elaborate  in  edition  1050.  S.  Ken. 
Forster,  87c.     1040. 

22.  Double    candlesticks.    Fuller's    History  of  the    Holy 

Warre,  3d  edition,  Cambridge.     1047. 

23.  Double  candlesticks.    Undescribed  and  dateless.  Bod- 

leian collection,  25,  837d  i. 


9. 

10. 

11. 

12 

-12e. 

13, 

13a. 

14, 

14a. 

412  FRANCIS  BACON 


Plate  X. 


24,25.  Double  candlesticks.    SirKenelmDigby  Of  Man1  s  Soul. 
1669. 

26,  27.  Double  candlesticks.    Sir   Kenelm    Digby  Of  Bodies. 
1669. 

28,  29.  Double  candlesticks.     De  Augmentis.    1674.    Others 
like  these  and  the  above,  but  with  variations,  in  Clark's 
Examples,  1656. 
30.  Double  candlesticks.    Undescribed  and  dateless.    Bod- 
leian collection. 

Plate  XL 

1-3.  The  vine  and  grapes.    Dutch  MSS.    British  Museum 
collection,  318c,  vol.  v.    1431-1445. 

4.  Grapes,  diamond.     Letter   from   the   Ambassador   of 

Venice.    Cotton  MSS.    1600. 

5.  Grapes,  diamond.    Letter,  Spanish,  signed  "Alonso." 

Cotton  MSS.    1603. 

6.  Grapes,  diamond.    Letter,  Seville.   Cotton  MSS.   1603. 

7.  Grapes,   diamond,   C  R  I    (or  reversed?).      Livorno. 

Cotton  MSS.    1603. 

8.  Grapes,  diamond,  B  R.     Heraldic  and  Historical  Col- 

lection.   Lansdowne,  205,  fol.  248. 
9-10.  Grapes,  diamond.    These  and  a  great  variety  of  others. 
Lansdowne,  187,  205,  230,  etc.  • 

11.  Grapes.    Biblia  Pauperum. 

12.  Grapes.     Bible.    1588. 

13-22.  Grapes.     (Some  fragments.)    Advancement  of  Learn- 
ing.   1605. 
23.  Grapes.    Bible.    1609. 
24-29.  Grapes.    Book  of  Common  Prayer.    1609. 

Plate  XII. 
30-34.  Book  of  Common  Prayer.     Continued  from  Plate  XL 

1609. 
35-39.  Bible.    1610. 
40-42.  Florio's  Italian-English  Dictionary.    1611. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  413 

43.  Marlowe's  Hero  and  Leander.     Letters  M  C  (for  C  M  ?). 
1613. 

44, 45.  Sidero  Thriambos.    1618. 

46^8.  (With  bars.)     Shakespeare  folio.    1623. 

49.  D'Aubigne's  History  of  the  Reformation.    1626. 

50, 51.  (With  bars.)    Shakespeare.    1632. 

52.  Quarles'  Emblems.    1635-1634. 

Plate  XIII. 

53.  Bar  in  Shakespeare.    1632. 

54.  He  Sapientia  Veterum.    (Five  ray3  and  pearls  as  crown.) 

1638. 

55.  Review  of  the  Councell  of  Trent — Anon.    1638. 
56-58.  Quarles'  Emblems.    1639. 

59-62.  Ben  Jonson's  Works.     1640. 

63.  History  of  the   Councell  of  Trent  —  translated  Sir  N. 

Brent.     (Vesica  Piscis  and  sacred  monogram.)    1640. 

64.  Collection  of  pamphlets,  including  the  Religio  Medici  — 

Sir  Thos.  Browne.     1642. 
Almost  the  same  in  Twenty-seven  Songs  ofSion —  Christ- 
mas Carols  —  W.  S. 

65.  Perspective  Curieuse —  Pere  Niceron — Paris.    1652. 

66.  A  Priest  of  the  Temple  —  George  Herbert.    1652. 

67.  Chronicle  of  the  Kings  of  England  —  Sir  Sam'l  Bake. 

1660. 
68, 69.  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Arcadia.     (See  Plate  XIV.)    1662. 
70.  Life  and  Death  of  Thomas  Cromwell.    (Supposed  "  spur- 
ious "  play  of  Shakespeare.)    1664. 
71, 74.  Ecclesia  Restaurata.    1641. 
72, 73.  Philippe  de  Comines'  History.    1665. 
75,75a.  "  Fulke's  »  Bible  and  Commentaries.    1633. 

Plate  XIV. 

76.  De  Augmentis:   1638. 
77,  78.  Sylva  Sylvarum.     (See  Plate  XII.)    1638. 
79-82.  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Arcadia.    1662. 
83-89.  La  Perspective  Curieuse  —  Niceron.    1663. 


414  FRANCIS  BACON 

90,  91.  Paradise  Lost.    1668. 

92.  Paradise  Regained.    1668. 

93.  The  Works  of  Abraham  Cowley.     1669. 

94.  The  New  Atlantis.     1669. 
95-97.  Moliere's  Plays.    1682. 

Plate  XV. 

1.  Pot,  like  chalice.    Frombookprintedby  Caxton,  before 

Sotheby.    1491. 

2.  Pot.     From  MS.     British  Museum,  vi.  318c.     1497. 

3.  Pot.     Letter  (or  copy)  from  W.  Latimer  to  M.  W.  Pace. 

Hatton  Finch,  29,549.    1530. 

4.  Pot.     Letter,  French,  unsigned.     Cotton  MSS.  Nero  vi. 

1596. 
5, 6.  Pot.    Letter,  copies  of  English.     Cotton  MSS.  Nero  vi. 
1596. 

7.  Pot.    Letter,  signed  Walsingham.     Cotton  MSS.  Nero 

vi.     1577.* 

8.  Pot.    Letter,  Walsingham  to  Leycester.    Cotton  MSS. 

Nero  vi.     1577. 

9.  Pot.     Letter,  Nathaniel  Bacon  to  the  Lord  Chancellor. 

Tennison  MSS.    1579. 
10.  Pot.     Letter,  H.  Maynard  to  Anthony  Bacon.     Tenni- 
son MSS.     1580. 
11,  12.  Pot.     Letter,  II.  Maynard  to  Anthony  Bacon,  copies. 
Tennison  MSS.    1580. 

13.  Pot.    Letter,  Francis  Bacon  to  W.  Doylie.     Tennison 

MSS.     1580. 

14.  Pot.    Letter,  Sir  Amyas  Powlett  to  A.  Bacon.     Cotton 

MSS.     1580. 
15,  10.  Pot.    Letter,  Walsingham  to  A.  Bacon.     Cotton  MSS. 
1587. 

17.  Pot.     Advertisement  from  Paris.     Cotton  MSS.     1587. 

18.  Pot.     Ten  Sets  of  Emblems  in   Verse  —  Anon.     (The 

verses  are  like  Quarles'.)     Tennison  MSS.     1587. 

19.  Pot.    Mrs.  Anne  Bacon  to  her  brother  Anthony.     Ten- 

nison MSS.    1591. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  415 

Another  pot,  exactly  similar,  Richard  Barker  to  An- 
thony Bacon.     Tennison  MSS.     1591. 

20.  Pot.     Lady  Anne  Bacon  to  her  son  Anthony.  Tennison 

MSS.     1592. 

21.  Pot.    Henry  Maynard  to  Anthony  Bacon.     Tennison 

MSS.     1592. 

22.  Pot.    M.  Colman  to  Anthony  Bacon.    Tennison  MSS. 

1592. 

23.  Pot.  Alexander  Bence  to  Anthony  Bacon.     Tennison 

MSS.    1592. 

Plate  XVI. 

1.  Letter  by  Sheryngton  to  Archbishop  Whitgift.  Tenni- 
son MSS.,  Lambeth.  1593. 
Another,  but  without  rays,  Alexander  Bence  to  Anthony 
Bacon.  Tennison  MSS.,  Lambeth.  1592. 
2,  3.  Miscellaneous  pedigrees — some  of  the  Bacon  family. 
(Several  patterns.)  Harleian  MSS.  1393,  fols.  31,  42, 
46,  etc. 

4.  Letter,  unsigned  —  Of  the  debt  of  the  Low  Countries. 

Various.    Hatton  Finch  MSS.  338.    1590. 

5.  Letter  unsigned,  undated. 

6.  Letters  from  Henry  Cobham.     One  speaks  of  Daubigne 

being  sent  into  Scotland.  Another  has  the  letters  A  B. 
The  same  in  letters  from  Sir  Amyas  Powlett.  Cotton 
MSS.  Calig.  E.  108,  159-161,  203,  210.     1581. 

7.  Estratto  da  Avisi  da  Constantinopoli.     Cotton  MSS. 

Nero  vi.  19.    After  1603. 
9.  Letters,  dateless,  unsigned.     Speak  of  Cardinal  Alo- 

brandini.    Cotton  MSS.  Nero  vi.  17. 
10.  Letters,  intercepted,  to  Signor  Valete   "  al    Conte. " 

Signed  Andrea  Van  Nellecouen.    Cotton  MSS.  Nero 

vi.  23. 
11,  12,  15,  17.  Letters  unsigned,   undated.      Cotton  MSS.  235, 

267,  314,  393-137. 
14.  Pedigrees  connected  with    the   Bacon  family.    Harl. 

1393, 108. 


416  FBANCIS  BACON 

10.  Note  :  This  is  the  only  example  of  a  two-handled  pot 
in  the  British  Museum  collection.  It  is  there  calied 
"Vase,  from  MS.  Quintilian."  The  latter  is  not  in 
the  museum.  (The  sheet  on  which  this  "  vase  "  is 
found  is  amongst  a  collection  of  foreign  papers,  1881.) 
Dateless. 

Plate  XVII. 

1.  From  the  Works  of  Thos.  Becon,  vol.  i,  or  Thos.  Beacon, 

vol.  ii.    1560.     (Note  this  mark  and  spelling  of  the 
name,  with  regard  to  the  last  pot  in  our  collection.) 

2.  Francis  Bacon's  Apologie.  1604. 
2-5a.  Advancement  of  Learning.  1605. 
6-14.  Translation  of  Certaine  Psalms.    1625. 

10.  War  with  Spain.    1629. 

15.  Hist.  Vitis  et  Mortis.    1637. 

16-18.  Sapientia  Veterum.    1638. 

19-23.  Hist.  Life  and  Death  (and  next  sheet).    1638. 

Plate  XVIII. 

1-3.  Hist.  Life  and  Death.     1638. 

4.  Hist.  Experimental  is    et   Naturalis,  De    Ventis,   etc., 

1638,  and  others  in  edition  of  1650. 
5, 6.  History  of  Henry  VII.    1638. 
7-14.  De  Augmentis.     1638. 

Plate  XIX. 

1-4.  Advancement  of  Learning.    1640. 

5.  De  Augmentis.     1645. 

6.  Bacon's  Bemaines.    Baconiana  (one  of  three  varieties). 

1648. 

7.  Neio  Atlantis  and  Sylva  Sylvarum.    1650.     In  the  New 

Atlantis,  1669,  there  are  five  patterns. 
8-10.     Sylva  Sylvarum.    1651. 

Nearly  the  same  as  No.   10  in  XXVIII  Sermons  by 
Jeremy  Taylor.    1654. 
11-12.  Sylva  Sylvarum.    1658. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  417 

Plate  XX. 

13.  Sylva  Sylvarum.    1658. 

14.  History  of  Life  and  Death.     1658. 

15.  Undescribed,  in  the  Bodleian  Collection.    1662. 
16-18.  Neto  Atlantis.    1669. 

10.20.  Advancement  of  Learning.    1674. 

Plate  XXI. 
1 .  North's  Plutarke.     Last  fly  leaf;  otherwise  foreign  pa- 
per.   1579. 
2,  la.  A  Handful  of  Gladsome  Verses  Given  to  the  Queen's 
Maiestie.    1592. 
3  to  Hy.  Spenser's  Faerie   Queene.     S.  Ken.  Mus.,  Forster  and 
Dyer  Library.    1596.    Note  the  AB,FB,  A  F,  R  C, 
etc.,  and  a  date  (1586  reversed  ?). 
4,5.  Homer's  Hiades — Chapman.    1598. 
6,  Hd.  A  Pithie  Exhortation.    1598. 

Plate   XXII. 

1-8.  Montaigne's  Essays.    1603. 
9.  North's  Plutarke.    1603. 
10,  11.  The  Examination,  etc.,  of  George  Sprot.    1609. 
12-15.  Observations  on  Ccesar1  s  Commentaries  —  Clement  Ed- 

mundes.    1609. 
16-22.  Florio's  Italian-English  Dictionary.    1611. 
23,24.  London  Triumphing — T.  Middleton.    1612. 

Plate  XXIII. 
1-3.  Drayton's  Polyalbion.    1613. 
4, 5.  Civitalis  Amor.    1613. 

6,7.  Marlowe's  Hero   and  Leander.      Brit.   Mus.  1076h   6. 
1613. 
8.  Another  pot  with  1 1. 
9-21.  Ben  Jonson's  Works.    1616. 
22  a,  c  &  d.  Stowe's  Survey  of  London.    1618. 
22  b.  The  World  Lost  at  Tennis. 
23-26.  Selden's  History  of  Tithes.    1618.     See  next  plate. 

27 


418  FRA  NGIS  BA  CON 

Plate  XXIV. 

1-11.  Seidell's  History  of  Tithes.     See  Plate  XXIII.     1618. 

12.  Triumphs  of  Love  and  Antiquity  —  Middleton.     1619. 

13.  The  World  Lost  at  Tennis  —  Middleton.     1619. 
14, 14a.  Chapman's  Byron's  (lonspiracie.     1625. 

15. 

16. 
17-17c.  Love's  Labour's  Lost  (quarto).    1631. 

Space  does  not  admit  of  a  collection  found  in  C.  Marlowe's 
Troublesome  Reigne  of  King  Edward  II.,  1622  (Brit.  Mus.  82c 
22);  Dr.  Faustus,  pot,  hand  and  rose;  Jew  of  Malta,  pot  with 
V  D;  others  with  crescent  and  crown.  Also  in  Edward  II., 
1598,  other  patterns  with  hand  and  star.  Also  in  Hero  and 
Leander,  1629  and  1637;  The  Rich  Jew  of  Malta,  1633;  The 
Queen's  Wake,  1610;  Tlie  Order  of  the  Solemnitie  of  the  Creation 
of  Prince  Henrie,  1610;  Tarn  Robur  in  Colis  Arbor  Jovis,  1610; 
and  other  plays,  masques,  etc.,  of  "  the  Elizabethan  and  Jaco- 
bean" dramatists,  some  anonymous. 

Plate  XX  V. 

1.  Euphues'  Anatomic  of  Wit  —  J.  Lilie.    1631.    Almost 
the  same  in  Euphues'  History  of  England.     (British 
Museum,  12,  410cc  1.) 
2-9.  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Polity.    1632. 

10.  Milton's    Comus.     A    masque    presented    at     Ludlow 

Castle.    1634. 

11.  Quarles'   Emblems.    1639.    No    second    half    visible; 

other  patterns  in  the  edition  of  1645,  and  a  pot  with 
I  P  in  History  of  Samson,  1631. 

12.  Sir  Kenelm  Digby,  Observations  on  the  22nd  Stanza,  &c. 

of  the  Faerie  Queene.     (British  Museum,   11.805aab, 
p.  17.) 

13.  Fuller's  Church  History.    1648. 

14.  "  Diodati "  Testament  and  Commentary.    Annotations 

to  the  Book  of  the  Revelations.     1648. 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  419 

Plate  XXVI. 

1-0.  The  Alcoran  of  Mahomet— Anon.     Six  bold  patterns. 
1619. 
7.  Xew  Testament.     1050. 
8-10.  Daniel's  Collection  of the  History  of  England.    1050. 
11,  12.  Scourge  for  the  Assyrian  —  Anon.    Tract.    1652. 

13.  Designefor  Plentie.    Tract.    1652. 
14, 14a.  George  Herbert's  Priest  to  the  Temple  (and  some  non- 
descripts).   1652. 
15.  Clark's  Examples.     1057.      Some  similar  in  XXVIII. 
Sermons  —  Jeremy  Taylor. 

Plate  XXVII. 
1.  The  Waif  of  Bliss — Elias  Asnniole.     1058. 
'2.  The  Doctrine  of  Original  Sin — Ashmole.    1658. 

3.  From  Paper  and  Paper  Making — Richard  Herring,  3d 

edition.  1863.  This  is  reprinted  from  lire's  Diction- 
ary of  Arts  and  Manufactures,  "  with  illustrations 
and  Additions. "  As  is  usual  in  all  books  professing 
to  publish  any  account  of  these  matters,  the  illustra- 
tion is  without  any  date  or  description  as  to  its  mean- 
ing, or  the  book  from  which  it  was  taken. 

4.  Sir  Robert  Howard's  Four  Neiv  Plays.     1664. 

5.  Shakespeare.    1664. 

6.  Sir  Kenelm  Digby's  Powder  of  Sympathy.     1009.     One 

of  several  patterns.  This  book  is  an  allegory  or 
parable  of  the  "  Rosicrucian  "  sort. 

7.  Sir  Kenelm  Digby's  Treatise  of  Bodies.     1669.     Several 

patterns. 

8.  Sir  Kenelm  Digby's  Treatise  of  Souls.    1(569.     Several 

patterns. 

9.  Traced  on  a  piece  in  the  collection  of  English  paper- 

marks  at  the  Bodleian  Library.  On  the  paper  is 
written:  "Geneva  Bible,  1561."  But  the  Geneva 
Bible  of  that  date  (tvhich  is  the  date  of  Francis  Bacon's 
birth)  has  not  this  paper-mark,  and  a  pot  of  this  size 


420  FRANCIS  BACON 

(nearly  5  inches)  is  not  found  till  nearly  one  hundred 
years  later.  The  figures  reversed  — 1651 — would  be 
about  the  date. 

10.  On  the  same  sheet  as  No.  9.    Here  the  pot  is  not  traced, 

but  on  the  paper  is  written  in  the  same  hand  of  a 
well-known  Professor:  "  From  Bacon's  Works,"  with 
the  date  added,  1563-4.  In  the  works  of  "  Thomas 
Becon,"  vol.  i.,  or  "Thomas  Beacon, "  vol.  ii.,  there 
is  no  pot  like  this.    See  ante. 

11.  CR.    From  Sir  Kenelm  Digby's  Of  the  Soul,     1669. 
12,  13.  Cowley's  Works.     1669. 


Had  space  permitted,  it  was  the  intention  to  add  extra  and 
nondescript  designs  to  prove  that  it  was  by  intention  and  selec- 
tion that  the  marks  specially  classed  as  "  Baconian"  were  intro- 
duced iuto  a  certain  very  comprehensive  circle  of  books  of  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries.  The  curious  and  industri- 
ous reader  should  satisfy  himself  on  this  point  by  studying  the 
"  extras"  in  these  or  other  books  of  the  period.  He  will  find 
.shields,  chains,  fleur-de-lis,  roses,  bell-flowers,  cardinals'  hats, 
shrines,  lambs  and  flags,  lions,  Mercury's  rods,  spread  eagles, 
double-headed  eagles,  etc.,  with  a  quantity  of  distinct  but  non- 
descript figures,  and  many  of  the  old  foreign  marks,  varied  or 
modified. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  present  collection  consists 
only  of  selections  made  from  the  limited  number  of  books  from 
which  we  have  been  able  to  draw.  Unfortunately,  many  other 
books  related  to  the  subject  had  been  examined  with  a  view  to 
other  particulars  before  we  had  grasped  the  importance  of  the 
paper-marks  as  first  links  in  the  chain. 

All  the  editions  of  books  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  cen- 
turies should  be  searched;  the  most  elementary  educational 
books,  as  well  as  the  sermons  "  preached ;"  masques  and  plays 
"produced;"  songs  and  hymns  "  written, "  "penned,"  "pre- 
sented," "set  to  music;"  theological,  scientific  and  historical 
works  "collected,"  "augmented,"  "revised;"  classical  and 


AND  HIS  SECRET  SOCIETY.  4121 

foreign  works  "  translated  out  of  the  Latin, "  or  "  first  printed  in 
the  English  tongue. " 

Where  the  hieroglyphic  pictures,  next  to  be  described,  are 
conspicuous  and  abundaut,  the  water-marks  seem  to  have  been 
less  regarded.  Yet  this  is  not  an  invariable  rule.  On  the  other 
hand,  where  the  name  of  the  supposed  author  on  the  title-page, 
or  the  signature  of  the  dedication,  is  printed  in  mixed  types  dif- 
fering from  the  rest  of  the  printing,  we  are  seldom  disappointed 
in  our  search  after  water-marks,  unless  the  book  was  published 
abroad,  or  the  paper  made  from  wood  and  not  from  cotton  fibre. 


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